had he seen anything so lovely and
so graceful. Then he began to think that it was too absurd that he, the
fascinating Featherhead, should fall in love with a portrait; and, to
drive away the recollections of its haunting eyes, he rushed back to
the town; but somehow everything seemed changed. The beauties no longer
pleased him, their witty speeches had ceased to amuse; and indeed, for
their parts, they found the Prince far less amiable than of yore, and
were not sorry when he declared that, after all, a country life suited
him best, and went back to the Leafy Palace. Meanwhile, the Princess
Celandine had been finding the time pass but slowly with the King and
Queen, and was only too pleased when Featherhead reappeared. She at once
noticed the change in him, and was deeply curious to find the reason of
it. Far from avoiding her, he now sought her company and seemed to take
pleasure in talking to her, and yet the Princess did not for a moment
flatter herself with the idea that he was in love with her, though it
did not take her long to decide that he certainly loved someone. But one
day the Princess, wandering sadly by the river, spied Prince Featherhead
fast asleep in the shade of a tree, and stole nearer to enjoy the
delight of gazing at his dear face unobserved. Judge of her astonishment
when she saw that he was holding in his hand a portrait of herself!
In vain did she puzzle over the apparent contradictoriness of his
behaviour. Why did he cherish her portrait while he was so fatally
indifferent to herself? At last she found an opportunity of asking him
the name of the Princess whose picture he carried about with him always.

'Alas! how can I tell you?' replied he.

'Why should you not?' said the Princess timidly. 'Surely there is
nothing to prevent you.'

'Nothing to prevent me!' repeated he, 'when my utmost efforts have
failed to discover the lovely original. Should I be so sad if I could
but find her? But I do not even know her name.'

More surprised than ever, the Princess asked to be allowed to see
the portrait, and after examining it for a few minutes returned it,
remarking shyly that at least the original had every cause to be
satisfied with it.

'That means that you consider it flattered,' said the Prince severely.
'Really, Celandine, I thought better of you, and should have expected
you to be above such contemptible jealousy. But all women are alike!'

'Indeed, I meant only that it was a good likeness,