day I'll bring him back to you. Perhaps he'll be cured
and perhaps he won't. If he is not cured then, we shall try two months
next time. We'll see, we'll see." Without any more ado she picked up
the astonished young prince and flew away with him as lightly as if he
were nothing but a feather or a straw. In vain the poor queen wept and
begged for a last kiss. Before she had wiped her eyes, the fairy
godmother and Prince Harweda were out of sight.

They flew a long distance, until they reached a great forest. When
they had come to the middle of it, down flew the fairy, and in a
minute more the young prince was standing on the green grass beside a
beautiful pink marble palace that looked something like a good-sized
summer-house.

"This is your home," said the godmother. "In it you will find
everything you need, and you can do just as you choose with your
time." Little Harweda was delighted at this, for there was nothing in
the world he liked better than to do as he pleased. He tossed his cap
up into the air and ran into the lovely little house without so much
as saying "Thank you" to his godmother. "Humph," said she, as he
disappeared, "you'll have enough of it before you have finished, my
fine prince." With that, off she flew. Prince Harweda had no sooner
set his foot inside the small rose-coloured palace than the iron door
shut with a bang and locked itself. This was because it was an
enchanted house, as of course all houses are that are built by
fairies.

Prince Harweda did not mind being locked in, as he cared very little
for the great beautiful outside world. The new home was very fine, and
he was eager to examine it. Then, too, he thought that when he was
tired of it, all he would have to do would be to kick on the door and
a servant from somewhere would come and open it--he had always had a
servant to obey his slightest command.

His fairy godmother had told him that it was _his_ house, therefore he
was interested in looking at everything in it.

The floor was made of a beautiful red copper that shone in the
sunlight like burnished gold and seemed almost a dark red in the
shadow. He had never seen anything half so fine before. The ceiling
was of mother-of-pearl, with tints of red and blue and yellow and
green, all blending into gleaming white, as only mother-of-pearl can.
From the middle of this handsome ceiling hung a large gilded bird-cage
containing a beautiful bird, which just at this moment was singing a