THE PRINCESS RECEIVES A LETTER AND WRITES ONE
The Princess Hyacinth came in from her morning's ride in a very bad
temper. She went straight up to her favourite seat on the castle
walls and sent for Wiggs.
"Wiggs," she said, "what's the matter with me?"
Wiggs looked puzzled. She had been dusting the books in the library;
and when you dust books you simply _must_ stop every now and then to
take just one little peep inside, and then you look inside another one
and another one, and by the time you have finished dusting, your head
is so full of things you have seen that you have to be asked questions
very slowly indeed.
"I'm pretty, aren't I?" went on Hyacinth.
That was an easy one.
"Lovely!" said Wiggs, with a deep breath.
"And I'm not unkind to anybody?"
"Unkind!" said Wiggs indignantly.
"Then why--oh, Wiggs, I know it's silly of me, but it _hurts_ me that
my people are so much fonder of the Countess than of me."
"Oh, I'm sure they're not, your Royal Highness."
"Well, they cheer her much louder than they cheer me."
Wiggs tried to think of a way of comforting her mistress, but her head
was still full of the last book she had dusted.
"Why should they be so fond of her?" demanded Hyacinth.
"Perhaps because she's so funny," said Wiggs.
"Funny! Is she funny?" said the Princess coldly. "She doesn't make
_me_ laugh."
"Well, it _was_ funny of her to make Woggs march round and round that
tree like that, _wasn't_ it?"
"Like what? You don't mean----" The Princess's eyes were wide open
with astonishment. "Was that Woggs all the time?"
"Yes, your Royal Highness. Wasn't it lovely and funny of her?"
The Princess looked across to the forest and nodded to herself.
"Yes. That's it. Wiggs, I don't believe there has ever been an Army
at all. . . . And I pay them every week!" She added solemnly, "There
are moments when I don't believe that woman is quite honest."
"Do you mean she isn't good?" asked Wiggs in awe.
Hyacinth nodded.
"I'm _never_ good," said Wiggs firmly.
"What do you mean, silly? You're the best little girl in Euralia."
"I'm _not_. I do awful things sometimes. Do you know what I did
yesterday?"
"Something terrible!" smiled Hyacinth.
"I tore my apron."
"You baby! That isn't being bad," said Hyacinth absently. She was
still thinking of that awful review.
"The Countess says it is."
"The Countess!"
"Do you know why I want to be _very_ good?" said Wiggs, coming up
close to the Princess.
"Why, dear?"
"Because then I could dance like a fairy."
"Is that how it's done?" asked the Princess, rather amused. "The
Countess must dance _very_ heavily." She suddenly remembered
something and added: "Why, of course, child, you were going to tell
me about a fairy you met, weren't you? That was weeks ago, though.
Tell me now. It will help me to forget things which make me rather
angry."
It was a simple little story. There must have been many like it in
the books which Wiggs had been dusting; but these were simple times,
and the oldest story always seemed new.
Wiggs had been by herself in the forest. A baby rabbit had run past
her, terrified; a ferret in pursuit. Wiggs had picked the little
fluffy thing up in her arms and comforted it; the ferret had slowed
down, walked past very indifferently with its hands, as it were, in
its pockets, hesitated a moment, and then remembered an important
letter which it had forgotten to post. Wiggs was left alone with the
baby rabbit, and before she knew where she was, the rabbit was gone
and there was a fairy in front of her.
[Illustration: _The rabbit was gone, and there was a fairy in front of
her_]
"You have saved my life," said the fairy. "That was a wicked magician
after me, and if he had caught me then, he would have killed me."
"Please, your Fairiness, I didn't know fairies _could_ die," said
Wiggs.
"They can when they take on animal shape or human shape. He could not
hurt me now, but before----" She shuddered.
"I'm so glad you're all right now," said Wiggs politely.
"Thanks to you, my child. I must reward you. Take this ring. When
you have been good for a whole day, you can have one good wish; when
you have been bad for a whole day, you can have one bad wish. One
good wish and one bad wish--that is all it will allow anybody to
have."
With these words she vanished and left Wiggs alone with the ring.
So, ever after that, Wiggs tried desperately hard to be good and have
the good wish, but it was difficult work. Something always went wrong;
she tore her apron or read books when she ought to have been dusting,
or---- Well, you or I would probably have given it up at once, and
devoted ourselves to earning the bad wish. But Wiggs was a nice
little girl.
"And, oh, I _do_ so want to be good," said Wiggs earnestly to the
Princess, "so that I could wish to dance like a fairy." She had a
sudden anxiety. "That _is_ a good wish, _isn't_ it?"
"It's a lovely wish; but I'm sure you could dance now if you tried."
"I can't," said Wiggs. "I always dance like this."
She jumped up and danced a few steps. Wiggs was a dear little girl,
but her dancing reminded you of a very dusty road going up-hill all
the way, with nothing but suet-puddings waiting for you on the top.
Something like that.
"It isn't _really_ graceful, is it?" she said candidly, as she came to
rest.
"Well, I suppose the fairies _do_ dance better than that."
"So that's why I want to be good, so as I can have my wish."
"I really must see this ring," said the Princess. "It sounds
fascinating." She looked coldly in front of her and added,
"Good-morning, Countess." (How long had the woman been there?)
"Good-morning, your Royal Highness. I ventured to come up
unannounced. Ah, sweet child." She waved a caressing hand at Wiggs.
(Even if she had overheard anything, it had only been child's talk.)
"What is it?" asked the Princess. She took a firm hold of the arms of
her chair. She would _not_, _not_, _not_ give way to the Countess
this time.
"The merest matter of business, your Royal Highness. Just this scheme
for the Encouragement of Literature. Your Royal Highness very wisely
decided that in the absence of the men on the sterner business of
fighting it was the part of us women to encourage the gentler arts;
and for this purpose . . . there was some talk of a competition,
and--er----"
"Ah, yes," said Hyacinth nervously. "I will look into that
to-morrow."
"A competition," said Belvane, gazing vaguely over Hyacinth's head.
"Some sort of a money prize," she added, as if in a trance.
"There should certainly be some sort of a prize," agreed the Princess.
(Why not, she asked herself, if one is to encourage literature?)
"Bags of gold," murmured Belvane to herself. "Bags and bags of gold.
Big bags of silver and little bags of gold." She saw herself tossing
them to the crowd.
"Well, we'll go into that to-morrow," said Hyacinth hastily.
"I have it all drawn up here," said Belvane. "Your Royal Highness has
only to sign. It saves _so_ much trouble," she added with a disarming
smile. . . . She held the document out--all in the most beautiful
colours.
Mechanically the Princess signed.
"Thank you, your Royal Highness." She smiled again, and added, "And
now perhaps I had better see about it at once." The Guardian of
Literature took a dignified farewell of her Sovereign and withdrew.
Hyacinth looked at Wiggs in despair.
"There!" she said. "That's me. I don't know what it is about that
woman, but I feel just a child in front of her. Oh, Wiggs, Wiggs, I
feel so lonely sometimes with nothing but women all around me. I wish
I had a man here to help me."
"Are _all_ the men fighting in _all_ the countries?"
"Not all the countries. There's--Araby. Don't you remember--oh, but
of course you wouldn't know anything about it. But Father was just
going to ask Prince Udo of Araby to come here on a visit, when the war
broke out. Oh, I wish, I _wish_ Father were back again." She laid
her head on her arms; and whether she would have shed a few royal
tears or had a good homely cry, I cannot tell you. For at that moment
an attendant came in. Hyacinth was herself again at once.
"There is a messenger approaching on a horse, your Royal Highness,"
she announced. "Doubtless from His Majesty's camp."
With a shriek of delight, and an entire lack of royal dignity, the
Princess, followed by the faithful Wiggs, rushed down to receive him.
Meanwhile, what of the Countess? She was still in the Palace, and,
more than that, she was in the Throne Room of the Palace, and, more
even than that, she was on the Throne, of the Throne Room of the
Palace.
She couldn't resist it. The door was open as she came down from her
interview with the Princess, and she had to go in. There was a woman
in there, tidying up, who looked questioningly at Belvane as she
entered.
"You may leave," said the Countess with dignity. "Her Royal Highness
sent me in here to wait for her."
The woman curtsied and withdrew.
The Countess then uttered these extraordinary words:
"When I am Queen in Euralia they shall leave me backwards!"
Her subsequent behaviour was even more amazing.
She stood by the side of the door, and putting her hand to her mouth
said shrilly, "Ter-rum, ter-rum, terrumty-umty-um." Then she took her
hand away and announced loudly, "Her Majesty Queen Belvane the First!"
after which she cheered slightly.
Then in came Her Majesty, a very proper dignified gracious Queen--none
of your seventeen-year-old chits. Bowing condescendingly from side to
side she made her way to the Throne, and with a sweep of her train she
sat down.
Courtiers were presented to her; representatives from foreign
countries; Prince Hanspatch of Tregong, Prince Ulric, the Duke of
Highanlow.
"Ah, my dear Prince Hanspatch," she cried, stretching out her hand to
the right of her; "and you, dear Prince Ulric," with a graceful
movement of the left arm towards him; "and, dear Duke, _you_ also!"
Her right hand, which Prince Hanspatch had by now finished with, went
out to the Duke of Highanlow that he too might kiss it.
But it was arrested in mid-air. She felt rather than saw that the
Princess was watching her in amazement from the doorway.
Without looking round she stretched out again first one arm and then
the other. Then, as if she had just seen the Princess, she jumped up
in a pretty confusion.
"Oh, your Royal Highness," she cried, "you caught me at my physical
exercises!" She gave a self-conscious little laugh. "My physical
exercises--a forearm movement." Once again she stretched out her arm.
"Building up the--er--building up--building up----"
Her voice died away, for the Princess still looked coldly at her.
"Charming, Countess," she said. "I am sorry to interrupt you, but I
have some news for you. You will like to know that I am inviting
Prince Udo of Araby here on a visit. I feel we want a little outside
help in our affairs."
"Prince Udo?" cried the Countess. "_Here?_"
"Have you any objection?" said Hyacinth. She found it easier to be
stern now, for the invitation had already been sent off by the hand of
the King's Messenger. Nothing that the Countess could say could
influence her.
"No objection, your Royal Highness; but it seems so strange. And then
the expense! Men are such hearty eaters. Besides," she looked with a
charming smile from the Princess to Wiggs, "we were all getting on so
_nicely_ together! Of course if he just dropped in for afternoon tea
one day----"
"He will make a stay of some months, I hope." There were no wizards
in Barodia, and therefore the war would be a long one. It was this
which had decided Hyacinth.
"Of course," said Belvane, "whatever your Royal Highness wishes, but I
do think that His Majesty----"
"My dear Countess," said Hyacinth, with a smile, "the invitation has
already gone, so there's nothing more to be said, is there? Had you
finished your exercises? Yes? Then, Wiggs, will you conduct her
ladyship downstairs?"
She turned and left her. The Countess watched her go, and then stood
tragically in the middle of the room, clasping her diary to her
breast.
"This is terrible!" she said. "I feel _years_ older." She held out
her diary at arm's length and said in a gloomy voice, "_What_ an entry
for to-morrow!" The thought cheered her up a little. She began to
consider plans. How could she circumvent this terrible young man who
was going to put them all in their places. She wished that----
All at once she remembered something.
"Wiggs," she said, "what was it I heard you saying to the Princess
about a wish?"
"Oh, that's my ring," said Wiggs eagerly. "If you've been good for a
whole day you can have a good wish. And my wish is that----"
"A wish!" said Belvane to herself. "Well, I wish that----" A sudden
thought struck her. "You said that you had to be good for a whole day
first?"
"Yes."
Belvane mused.
"I wonder what they mean by _good_," she said.
"Of course," explained Wiggs, "if you've been bad for a whole day you
can have a bad wish. But I should hate to have a bad wish, wouldn't
you?"
"Simply hate it, child," said Belvane. "Er--may I have a look at that
ring?"
"Here it is," said Wiggs; "I always wear it round my neck."
The Countess took it from her.
"Listen," she said. "Wasn't that the Princess calling you? Run
along, quickly, child." She almost pushed her from the room and
closed the door on her.
Alone again, she paced from end to end of the great chamber, her left
hand nursing her right elbow, her chin in her right hand.
"If you are good for a day," she mused, "you can have a good wish. If
you are bad for a day you can have a bad wish. Yesterday I drew ten
thousand pieces of gold for the Army; the actual expenses were what I
paid--what I owe Woggs. . . . I suppose that is what narrow-minded
people call being bad. . . . I suppose this Prince Udo would call it
bad. . . . I suppose he thinks he will marry the Princess and throw
me into prison." She flung her head back proudly. "Never!"
Standing in the middle of the great Throne Room, she held the ring up
in her two hands and wished.
"I wish," she said, and there was a terrible smile in her eyes, "I
wish that something very--very _humorous_ shall happen to Prince Udo
on his journey."