u, anyhow,' she said. 'I'll do it. I wish I loved
you!'

There was a silence. Then Pandora said:

'Nothing's happened. I don't love you. I feel just the same as usual.
Your hair, and hands, and face, and ears are redder than ever. You'll
excuse my candour, won't you?'

'Then there's nothing for it but for me to wish not to love you,' said
Muscadel, 'for I really can't bear loving you to this desperate degree
when you don't care a snap of your Royal fingers for me. Lend me the
jewel a moment. You shall have it back. If you don't care for me, I
don't want to care for anything. I'll live and die a red-faced,
red-eared, red-haired, red-handed archer, so I will.'

The Princess lent him the jewel, and he wished and waited. Then, 'It's
no good,' he said; 'I adore you as much as ever--more, if possible.'

'Ah, I see,' said the Princess; 'there _is_ one thing that the magic
ring won't touch. I suppose that's love. How funny!'

'I don't think it's funny at all,' said he. 'I suppose really it's
because you're not the sort of person that could love the sort of person
I am.'

'Well, then,' said she, 'I'll wish I was the sort of person who _could_.
I won't be made a silly of by a stupid magic jewel. Only let me call my
father, because goodness knows what sort of person the person who could
love you would be like. _I_ can't imagine anyone who could!'

'You may be as cruel as you like now,' said Muscadel, 'if only somehow
or other you'll get to love me afterwards. I will call the King.'

So he went to the door and shouted:

'Hi, your Majesty! Step this way for a moment, will you, please?'

And His Majesty stepped.

'Look here, daddy,' said the Princess, 'I'm real Princess size again, so
give me a kiss!'

[Illustration: 'A blowzy, frowzy dairymaid.' Page 363.]

When this was done she said very quickly, and before the King could stop
her:

'I wish I was the kind of person that could love this archer.'

And then and there, before the horrified eyes of the other two, the
Princess turned into the kind of person who could love the archer.

'Bless my soul and body!' said the King, turning purple.

'Oh, my heart!' said Muscadel, turning white.

For the kind of person the Princess had changed into was a blowzy,
frowzy dairymaid, with oily black hair and shining red cheeks, and
little black eyes like the currant eyes in gingerbread pigs. Her hands
were fat and red, and her feet would not bear looking at for a moment.

'G