r, and when we got to Sir Willoughby's
lodge gates, which have sprawling lions on the gate-posts, we were told
to take the donkey cart round to the stable-yard.
This we did, and proud was the moment when a stiff groom had to bend his
proud stomach to go to the head of Bates's donkey.
"This is something like," said Alice, and Noel added:
"The foreign princes are well received at this palace."
"We aren't princes, we're gipsies," said Dora, tucking his scarf in. It
would keep on getting loose.
"There _are_ gipsy princes, though," said Noel, "because there are gipsy
kings."
"You aren't always a prince first," said Dora; "don't wriggle so or I
can't fix you. Sometimes being made a king just happens to some one who
isn't any one in particular."
"I don't think so," said Noel; "you have to be a prince before you're a
king, just as you have to be a kitten before you're a cat, or a puppy
before you're a dog, or a worm before you're a serpent, or----"
"What about the King of Sweden?" Dora was beginning, when a very nice
tall, thin man, with white flowers in his buttonhole like for a wedding,
came strolling up and said--
"And whose show is this? Eh, what?"
We said it was ours.
"Are you expected?" he asked.
We said we thought not, but we hoped he didn't mind.
"What are you? Acrobats? Tight-rope? That's a ripping Burmese coat
you've got there."
"Yes, it is. No we aren't," said Alice, with dignity. "I am Zaida, the
mysterious prophetess of the golden Orient, and the others are
mysterious too, but we haven't fixed on their names yet."
"By jove!" said the gentleman; "but who are you really?"
"Our names are our secret," said Oswald, with dignity, but Alice said,
"Oh, but we don't mind telling _you_, because I'm sure you're nice.
We're really the Bastables, and we want to get some money for some one
we know that's rather poor--of course I can't tell you _her_ name. And
we've learnt how to tell fortunes--really we have. Do you think they'll
let us tell them at the _fete_. People are often dull at _fetes_, aren't
they?"
"By Jove!" said the gentleman again--"by Jove, they are!"
He plunged for a moment in deep reflection.
"We've got co--musical instruments," said Noel; "shall we play to you a
little?"
"Not here," said the gentleman; "follow me."
He led the way by the backs of shrubberies to an old summer-house, and
we asked him to wait outside.
Then we put on our veils and tuned up. "See, see
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