FINE FEATHERS
Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson was the first of her party to recover
consciousness. When she did, she was greatly surprised to find that it
was broad daylight, and that she was lying on a grassy slope, behind
which was a forest of huge pines. Close beside her were the recumbent
forms of her husband and family, which led her to the natural conclusion
that the car must have met with an accident.
"Sidney!" she cried, shaking him by the shoulder. "Speak to me!
You're--you're not _seriously_ hurt, are you?"
"Eh, what?" he replied sleepily, and evidently imagining that he was
comfortably in bed at home; "all right, my dear, all right! I'll get up
and bring in the tea-tray presently. Lots of time.... Why, hullo!" he
exclaimed, after being shaken once more, as he sat up and rubbed his
eyes. "How do we all come to be _here_?"
The others were awake by this time. "And now we're here," put in
Clarence, "where _are_ we, eh, Mater?"
"It is no use asking _me_, Clarence. I know no more than you do. The
last thing I remember was our all getting into the car to go and see the
Pageant Committee. I've a vague recollection of ostriches--but no, I
must have been dreaming _them_. However, the car seems to have upset
somehow, only I don't see it about anywhere."
"No," said Mr. Stimpson, "or old Thingumagig, or those fellows with the
trumpets either."
"Dumped us down here, and gone off with the car," said Clarence. "Looks
as if we'd been the victims of a practical joke, what?"
"They would never dare to do that!" said his Mother. "I expect they have
missed their way in the dark. Very careless of them. I don't know what
Lady Harriet and the Committee will think of me. They'll probably ask
somebody else to take the part of Queen before we can get there--for I'm
sure we must be a good hundred miles away from Gablehurst!"
"The Baron said that he was taking us to Märchenland, Mrs. Stimpson,"
said Daphne; "and I'm _almost_ sure that that is where we really are."
"And where may Märchenland be?" inquired Mrs. Stimpson sharply. "I never
heard of it myself."
"Well," said Daphne, "it's another name for--for Fairyland, you know."
"Fairyland indeed!" replied Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson with some
irritation. "You will find it difficult to persuade me to believe that I
am in _Fairyland_, Miss Heritage! To begin with, there is no such place,
and if there was, perhaps you will kindly tell me how we could possibly
have got to it?"
"Through the air," explained Daphne patiently. "That car was drawn by
_storks_, you see--not ostriches."
"When you have _quite_ woke up, Miss Heritage," said Mrs. Stimpson, "you
will realise what nonsense you are talking."
"Whatever this place is," said Clarence, "it don't look English,
somehow, to _me_. I mean to say--that town over there--what?" He
pointed across the wide plain to a cluster of towers, spires, gables,
and pinnacles which glittered and gleamed faintly through the shimmering
morning haze.
"It certainly has rather a Continental appearance," observed his father.
"If it has," said Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson, "it is only some buildings or
scenery or something they have run up for the Pageant. So we haven't
been taken in the wrong direction after all."
"_I_ believe, Mummy," chirped Ruby, "Miss Heritage is right, and this
_is_ Fairyland."
"Don't be so ridiculous, child! You'll believe next that we came here in
a car drawn by flying storks, I suppose!"
"D'you know, Mater," said Clarence, "I'm not so sure we mayn't have.
What I mean is--there's some sort of flying machine coming along now. I
grant you it isn't drawn by storks, but they're _birds_ anyhow, and
there seems to be some one in the car too."
"Nothing of the kind!" declared Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson obstinately. "At
least one may fancy one sees anything with the sun in our eyes as it is.
Well, upon my word!" she added, still incredulously, as an iridescent
shell-shaped chariot attached to a team of snow-white doves _volplaned_
down from a dizzy height to a spot only a few yards away, "I really
could not have--who, and what can this old person be?"
The occupant of the chariot had already got out of it, and was slowly
coming towards them, supporting herself on a black crutch-handled staff.
As she drew nearer they could see that she was a woman of great age. She
wore a large ruff, a laced stomacher, wide quilted petticoats, and a
pointed hat with a broad brim. Her expression was severe, but not
unkindly, while she evidently considered herself a personage of some
importance.
"She looks exactly like the Fairy Godmother in the pictures," whispered
Ruby.
"Whoever she may be," said her Mother, scrambling to her feet with more
haste than dignity, "I suppose I shall have to go and speak to her, as I
presume I am the person she has come to meet."
However, it was Daphne who was addressed by the new-comer.
"The Court Chamberlain, Baron Treuherz von Eisenbänden, has brought me
the glad tidings of your arrival, my child," she said in a high cracked
voice, "and, as the high official Court Godmother to the Royal Family, I
felt that I should be the first to bid you welcome."
This was more than Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson could be expected to stand
without a protest.
"Pardon me," she said, throwing back her cloak as though she were in
need of air, "pardon me, Madam, but I think you are mistaking my
daughter's governess for _me_. I am Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson!"
The old lady turned sharply, and as her eyes fell on the matron's
indignant face and heaving bosom, she instantly became deferential and
almost apologetic. "You must forgive me, my dear," she said, "for not
recognising you before. But at my age--I may tell you I am nearing the
end of my second century--one is apt to forget the flight of Time. Or it
may be that Time in your world flies more quickly than in ours. I did
not stay to hear more from the Baron than that he had succeeded in
finding our Queen, and, to be quite plain with you, I was unprepared to
find you so mature."
Then, thought Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson confusedly, she _had_ been brought
here for the Pageant after all. But what very odd people seemed to be
getting it up!
"Baron--whatever his name is, appeared to be quite satisfied that I was
suited to the part," she said coldly. "Of course, if you require someone
younger----"
"There can be no manner of doubt, my dear, that you are the Queen we
have been seeking, so the mere fact that you are rather older than some
of us expected is of no importance whatever."
"Thank you," said Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson. "I do not consider myself
more than middle-aged, and have generally been taken for younger than I
am, Mrs. ----, I haven't the pleasure of knowing your name."
"Here they call me the Fairy Vogelflug; in the neighbouring Kingdom of
Clairdelune my name is Voldoiseau. I have officiated as Court Godmother
to the reigning Royal families in both countries for many generations."
"I _thought_ you were a Fairy Godmother!" cried Ruby; "and I'm sure
you're a _good_ Fairy, and can do all sorts of wonderful things."
"I used to, my child, in my younger days, but my powers are not what
they were, and I seldom exercise them now, because it exhausts me too
severely to do so. Once there were several of us Court Godmothers, but I
am the only one left, and my health is so poor that I can do little for
my God-children but give them moral teaching and wise counsel. However,
such good offices as I can still render shall be entirely at your
service."
"You are very kind," said Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson, resenting the other's
air of patronage, "but all my children are already provided with
God-parents. As you tell me you are a Fairy," she continued, "I suppose
I must accept your word for it--but it will take a great deal more than
that to make me believe that we are in Fairyland."
"I thought," said the Fairy, "you already knew that the name of this
country is Märchenland."
It should be said here once for all that the Wibberley-Stimpsons found
no difficulty in understanding, or making themselves perfectly
intelligible to any Märchenlanders, although they always had a curious
feeling that they were conversing in a foreign language.
"Whatever the country is called," said Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson
aggressively, "I should like some explanation of that Baron Troitz's
conduct in entrapping us into coming here. I was distinctly given to
understand that I had been chosen to be the Queen at our local Pageant,
and that we were being taken to talk over the arrangements with the
Committee. Now he has gone off in the most ungentlemanly way, and left
us stranded and helpless here!"
"You must have misunderstood the good Baron," said the Fairy Vogelflug;
"and he is far too loyal to desert you. He has merely hastened on to
Eswareinmal, the city whose walls and towers you see yonder, to prepare
for your reception. As you probably know, he has devoted himself with
the most untiring zeal to his mission of seeking you out and restoring
you to your inheritance."
"He never said a word about that to me--not a word. If I am really
entitled to any property in this country, I should be glad to know
where it is situated, and what is its exact value."
"Then," said the Fairy, "I may inform you that you are entitled, as the
daughter of your late Father--our long-lost and much-lamented Prince
Chrysopras--to no less a possession than the Crown of Märchenland."
"You--you don't _say_ so!" gasped Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson. "The Crown
of--Sidney, did you hear _that_."
"It's some mistake, my dear," he said. "Must be! ... My wife's father,
Ma'am, though in some respects--a--a remarkable character, was never a
Prince--at least that _I've_ heard of."
"It doesn't at all follow, Sidney," said his wife in a nettled tone,
"that anything you don't happen to have heard of is not a fact. There
always _was_ a mystery about poor dear Papa's origin. He was most
reticent about it--even with me. And I know it was rumoured that
Prinsley was not his real name. So it would not surprise me in the least
if Mrs. Fogleplug turned out to be right, though I cannot say till she
gives us further particulars."
"I will do so most willingly," said the Fairy. "But as it will take me
some time to relate them, I should strongly advise you all to sit down."
They seated themselves round her in a semicircle, and presently she
began:
"You must know," she said, "that our mighty and gracious Sovereign, the
late King Smaragd, was twice wedded. By his first wife he had an only
son, Prince Chrysopras, a gallant and goodly prince, beloved not only by
his father, but by the whole nation. Well, after mourning his first wife
for a longer period than is customary, King Smaragd took to himself
another, who was much younger than himself, besides being marvellously
beautiful."
"And of course she hated the poor Prince," said Ruby. "Stepmothers
always do in the stories."
"I have not said she hated him," said the Court Godmother, who did not
like her points to be anticipated. "On the contrary, she treated him
with every mark of affection, and was constantly bestowing on him gifts
of the costliest description. One day she presented him with a wondrous
mechanical horse, fiercer and more mettlesome than even the steeds that
are born in Märchenland."
"Motor-bike, what," suggested Clarence sapiently.
"A mechanical horse is what I _said_," repeated the Fairy, "resembling
others in shape and beauty, but made of metal. Prince Chrysopras, being
a skilful and fearless horseman----"
"Indeed he was!" put in Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson. "He used to ride
regularly in the Row, almost to the last. On 'Joggles,' such a dear
brown fat cob. He was one of what I believe was known as 'The Liver
Brigade' ... a fact which for some reason I can't pretend to fathom
seems to be causing you amusement, Miss Heritage."
Daphne, whose sense of humour was occasionally an inconvenience to her,
had certainly found the notion of a Fairy Prince in the Liver Brigade a
little too much for her gravity. However, she attributed her lapse to
the name of the horse.
"It was the name they gave it at the Livery Stables," said Mrs.
Wibberley-Stimpson. "And I really cannot see myself--but we are
interrupting this good lady here."
"You are," said the Fairy. "I was about to say that Prince Chrysopras
was greatly delighted by his Royal Stepmother's gift, and at once leapt
on the back of the strange steed."
"What I call asking for trouble," commented Clarence.
"_I_ know what happened!" Ruby struck in eagerly. "It flew right up into
the air with him, and poor Grandpapa fell off."
"If he had, none of you would be here at the moment," said the Fairy.
"Don't be in such a hurry, my child. He was much too good a rider to
fall off. But the horse flew up and up with him till both could no
longer be seen. The remains of the steed were found long afterwards on a
mountain top. But nothing more was ever seen of the Prince, who was
supposed to have perished in one of our lakes."
"Then he must have fallen off after all," insisted Ruby.
"No, no, Ruby," said her mother, with a sense that, where the credit of
her family was concerned, nothing was too improbable for belief; "the
horse flew with him to England, or _somewhere_ in Europe--or else he
couldn't have met your dear grandmother, whom none of you ever saw, for
she died long before you were born. And I expect that, after he got off,
the horse flew back again, and was just able to get to Märchenland
before the machinery broke down. And dear Papa very naturally would not
care for people to know that he had got there by such peculiar means,
which accounts for my never having heard of it before."
"Exactly," said the Fairy Vogelflug; "but King Smaragd only knew that
his son was lost to him, and when he discovered that the horse was
enchanted, and that his Queen had bribed the Hereditary Grand Magician
to construct it, his anger knew no bounds."
"Enough to annoy anybody," said Mr. Wibberley-Stimpson. "I should
certainly----"
"He ordered," the Fairy went on, without appearing to feel any interest
in what Mr. Stimpson would have done in similar circumstances, "both the
Queen and the Grand Magician to be enclosed in a barrel, the inside of
which had been set with sharp nails, and rolled down into the lake from
the top of the mountain."
"I should say myself," remarked Mr. Stimpson, "that that was going a
little too far. But he certainly had great provocation."
"He also commanded that all wizards and enchanters should renounce their
practices for ever, and adopt some other calling, or be banished from
the Country."
"There," said Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson approvingly, "I think he was _so_
right. I would never encourage any of those clairvoyant people myself.
And did he marry a third wife at all?"
"Not if he was wise!" said Clarence.
"No, although it grieved him sorely that he had no heir to succeed him.
But towards the end of his days, he dreamed repeatedly that his son was
yet living. He beheld him in these visions a wanderer in some far-off
land, earning his bread as a musician, for in Music he had rare skill."
"I fancy he must have given it up when he took to Finance," said Mrs.
Wibberley-Stimpson, "though he kept his taste for it. I well remember
his buying a beautiful orchestrion which used to be in the Picture
Gallery."
"Well," pursued the Fairy, "in further dreams it was revealed to the
King that his son was married to one, who, though not of his own race or
rank, was both gently born and very fair to see."
"Pollentine was the maiden name of your Grandmother on _my_ side, my
dears," explained Mrs. Stimpson to her family. "She must have been
good-looking as a girl, judging by a daguerrotype I had of her. Her
father was a highly distinguished Auctioneer and Estate Agent in East
Croydon, as I daresay was also revealed in the King's dream."
"Of that I can say nothing," replied the Court Godmother; "but I know
that further visions showed him his son as a widower with an only
daughter, and later still that he was no longer living. And so much was
the King impressed that he caused a search to be made for this
grand-daughter of his in every country that is known to us. Even when he
lay on his death-bed he did not give up hope that she would be found,
and so he left his Kingdom in charge of his trusted favourite Marshal
Federhelm as Regent, with strict injunctions to continue seeking for the
missing Queen."
"And how," inquired Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson, "did the Marshal manage to
find me out?"
"It was not he. He soon convinced himself that all further endeavours
were useless. No, it is to the devotion of our worthy Court Chamberlain,
the Baron Treuherz von Eisenbänden, that your discovery is owing. He had
grieved so deeply to see Märchenland without a Sovereign that, after the
example of 'Faithful John,' the founder of his family, he had placed
iron hoops round his chest to keep his heart from breaking."
"We heard 'em go," said Clarence; "thought it was only his braces."
"At length," continued the Fairy, "the Baron went in secret to Xuriel,
the Astrologer Royal, and induced him to consult the stars. Which Xuriel
did, and by much study and intricate calculation he succeeded in
ascertaining the exact spot in the other world where the Queen would be
discovered, and even the means by which she might be recognised."
"Ah," said Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson, "I shall begin to believe in
Astronomy after this. But even now I don't _quite_ understand how Baron
Troitz got to 'Inglegarth.'"
"That was by _my_ assistance. I placed my travelling car at his service,
with the wise storks that fly straight to any place to which they are
directed, even though they may never have heard of it before. Happily
for Märchenland, Xuriel's calculations have proved correct, except that
he did not foresee that the Baron would bring back two Sovereigns
instead of one."
"What--is the Gov'nor going to be King?" inquired Clarence. "My hat!"
"That would be ridiculous, Clarence," said his mother, "when your Father
hasn't a drop of Royal blood in his veins! He can't even rank as Prince
Consort!"
"Not so, my dear, not so," corrected the Fairy, "by the custom of
Märchenland, anyone who weds the Sovereign shares the throne, and your
husband will be as truly the King of this Country as you will be its
Queen."
"Oh, is _that_ the rule?" said Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson, not best
pleased. "Well, Sidney, I trust you will show yourself equal to your
position, that is all."
"I trust so, my love," he replied uneasily. "It--it's come on me at
rather short notice. However!"
"If Daddy and Mums are King and Queen," asked Ruby, "will Edna and me be
Princesses?"
"Undoubtedly you will," said the Court Godmother.
"Then Clarence will be a Prince. So you see, Miss Heritage, dear, you
_have_ met a Prince after all!"
"Shut up, Kiddie!" said the new Crown Prince in some confusion.
"And what will Miss Heritage be, Mummy?"
"Miss Heritage will be what she was before, my dear--your governess."
"But I shan't want one any more--we're in Fairyland now--and Fairy
Princesses haven't got to do lessons. Oh, Mums, couldn't you make Miss
Heritage a Princess too? Do!"
"Why not?" said the Fairy, glancing at Daphne, whose colour had risen
slightly. "Anybody might very well take her to be one as it is."
"Miss Heritage," said Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson, "has, I am sure, too much
good sense to expect a title of any kind. She will continue to be my
daughter's instructress, and I may possibly find a place for her as
Mistress of the Robes or something; but it's much too early to say
anything definite at--Really, Edna," she broke off suddenly, "how you
can sit there calmly reading as if nothing had happened!"
"I was merely running through my lecture-notes again, Mother," said
Edna. "If I _am_ a Princess," she added, for the benefit of the Court
Godmother, "that is no reason why I shouldn't go on cultivating my
mind."
"Now you're a Princess, my dear," replied her mother, "it doesn't
signify to anybody whether your mind is cultivated or not."
"It signifies a great deal to _me_, mother," said Edna, and resumed the
study of her notes with an air of conscious merit.
"I must say _one_ thing, Mrs. Fogleplug," Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson
proceeded; "it would have been more considerate if I had been given
proper notice, and a reasonable time to prepare for such a complete
change as this. I do feel _that_."
She did; it was a great deprivation to her to have lost the opportunity
of mentioning casually to her Gablehurst friends--and Lady Harriet
especially--that she would shortly be leaving them to occupy a throne.
"Precisely my own feeling," said Mr. Stimpson, thinking regretfully how
the news would have made that confounded fellow Thistleton sit up, and
of the sensation it might have produced in the train to the City. "It
is, to say the least of it, unfortunate that I had no time to
communicate with the other members of my firm."
"And there's Clarence, too!" said his fond mother. "His Company will be
quite helpless without him!"
"They may be in a bit of a hole at first," he admitted, thankful now
that he had said nothing about his resignation, or the readiness with
which it had been accepted. "Still, no fellow is indispensable. What?"
The Fairy explained that haste had been unavoidable, as it might have
been injurious to the storks if they had remained longer in a climate to
which they were unaccustomed.
"But why send storks to fetch us at all?" demanded Mrs.
Wibberley-Stimpson. "Why not some more modern conveyance?... There they
are again with the car--coming back for us, I expect.... Yes, I can make
out Baron Troitz and the trumpeters--and there seems to be a gentleman
in armour with them."
"The Regent, Marshal Federhelm," said the Fairy. "He is coming to offer
his congratulations."
"Is he?" cried Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson, scrambling to her feet again in
some dismay. "A Regent! I--I wish I knew the proper way of addressing
him!"
The storks by this time had brought the car to ground, and were now
standing about on one leg with folded wings and an air of detachment.
The Marshal alighted and advanced slowly towards the Stimpsons while the
heralds sounded their trumpets.
He made a formidable and warrior-like figure in his golden half-armour
of a kind unknown to antiquarians, and great jack-boots of gilded
leather. He was tall, and the towering mass of waving feathers that
crowned his helmet made him look taller still. His vizor was raised,
showing a swarthy, hook-nosed face, with quick, restless eyes like a
lizard's, a fierce moustache, and a bristling beard that spread out in a
stiff black fan.
"_You_ had better speak to him, Sidney," whispered his wife, overcome by
sudden panic; "I really can't."
"Er--" began Mr. Stimpson nervously, "I believe I have the pleasure of
addressing the Regent. We--we're the new King and Queen, you know, and
these are the other members of the family."
The Marshal seemed a little taken aback at first, but he promptly
recovered himself, and bending so low that his feathers brushed Mrs.
Wibberley-Stimpson's nose, he placed in her hand a small velvet-covered
baton studded with gold stars.
"Oh, thank you very much, I'm sure," she said. "It's quite charming. Has
it got an address or anything inside it?"
"The symbol of my authority, your Majesty," he said, with soldierly
curtness. "I have long desired to surrender it to hands more worthy to
govern than mine."
"Very handsome of you to say so," replied Mr. Stimpson; "but I daresay
you aren't altogether sorry to get out of it, eh?"
"It is too lofty a position, Sire, for a rough, simple warrior like
myself," he said. "Nothing but a sense of duty to my country would have
made me accept the Regency at all."
"I am sure," said Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson, "we shall find you have
carried on the Kingdom for us as satisfactorily as possible."
"The people appeared to think so, your Majesty. But I am forgetting the
chief purpose I am here for. I have the honour to announce that the
procession will shortly be on its way to escort your Majesties to your
Coronation, which is to take place this morning in the great church of
Eswareinmal."
"_Coronation!_" Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson almost screamed. "Before we have
so much as had our breakfast! And in these things we are wearing now! I
never heard of anything so preposterous!"
"I don't care much myself," said Mr. Stimpson, "about being crowned on
an empty--without having had something to eat--if it's only an egg."
"If they're going to crown the Guv'nor in a dinner-jacket and white
tie," Clarence muttered to Edna, "we shall never hear the last of it,
that's all!"
"There is nothing to make a fuss about, my dear," said the Court
Godmother to Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson, as though she were addressing a
froward child; "look behind you, and you will see that everything you
may require is already provided."
They looked and saw two velvet Marquees, one striped in broad bands of
apple-green and mazarine blue, the other in pale rose and cream, which a
party of attendants had just finished putting up. "In those pavilions,"
continued the Fairy, "you will find not only food prepared for you, but
robes such as are fitting for a Coronation. You will have plenty of time
both to eat and change your dress before the procession can possibly
arrive."
"She's not likely to have got our measurements right," grumbled Mrs.
Wibberley-Stimpson to her eldest daughter, as they moved towards the
rose-and-cream Pavilion. "I should have much preferred to be fitted by a
Court dressmaker. Such a mistake to rush things like this! I rather like
that Marshal, Edna; there's something very gentlemanly and
straightforward about him, though I can't see why he shouldn't wear a
proper uniform instead of that absurd armour."
"Shan't be sorry to get some breakfast, my boy," Mr. Stimpson remarked,
as he and Clarence were making for the other marquee; "I feel a bit
peckish after being so long in the night air."
"I should like a tub first, Guv'nor."
"I'm afraid," said Mr. Stimpson, "that's expecting too much in these
parts."
However, on entering, they discovered, in addition to the delicacies and
gorgeous costumes laid out for them, two great crystal baths filled with
steaming water which exhaled a subtle but delicious perfume.
"Doing us proud, eh, Guv'nor?" was Clarence's comment on the general
luxuriousness; and his father admitted that "everything seemed to have
been done regardless of expense."
While the male and female members of the Royal Party were enjoying the
privacy of their respective tents, the Marshal outside was expressing
his sentiments to the Court Chamberlain with much vigour and freedom.
"Well, Baron," he began, "this is a great service you have done
Märchenland, and I hope you are feeling proud of yourself!"
"Oh, as for that, Marshal," modestly replied the ingenuous Baron, "I
have done no more than my duty."
"The devil take you and your duty," growled the Marshal. "Why, in the
name of all the fiends, couldn't you have left things as they were?"
"But, Marshal," the Baron protested, "when our learned Astrologer Royal
discovered the whereabouts of our lawful Queen, you were loudest in
approval of my expedition!"
"How could I oppose, after you had been gabbling and cackling about it
to the whole Court, and it had even reached the ears of the people?
Besides, I was given to understand that this daughter of Chrysopras's
was a mere girl. If she _had_ been--But what have you brought us?--a
middle-aged matron with a husband and family!"
"I own it was not what I had expected," said the Baron; "but since it
was so, what could I do but bring them all?"
"Do? Left them where they were, of course--come back and said that that
little fool of a Xuriel had made a miscalculation, as he generally
does!"
"I should have been a traitor had I thus denied my Queen. For, as you
have seen, she bears on her breast the very jewel of her father the
Prince, even as the stars foretold."
"Undoubtedly she is his daughter," the Marshal admitted reluctantly. It
never occurred to him for a moment--nor would it occur to any of his
countrymen--that the pendant was anything but absolutely conclusive
proof of Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson's right to the throne. Märchenland
notions of what constitutes legal evidence have always been and remain
elementary.
"But it's pretty plain," he went on, "that the young fool must have made
a most unworthy marriage to have begotten one so utterly lacking in all
queenliness and dignity."
"She will soon acquire both," the Court Chamberlain affirmed stoutly,
"as she becomes more accustomed to her position."
"She may," declared the Marshal, "when a frog grows feathers. And this
consort of hers! _Is_ he a fit Monarch for Märchenland? Even _you_,
Baron, can hardly say that for him! I may not have been beloved as
Regent, but at least I have made my authority respected. But what do
such a couple as this know about ruling a country? They'll make a
hopeless hash of it!"
"Without guidance, perhaps," the Baron admitted; "but they will have the
inestimable advantage, Marshal, of our experience and advice."
"Ha!" said the Marshal. "So they will--so they will! I was forgetting
that!"
"No doubt they will submit to our guidance," went on the Baron, "and
thus we shall be able to save them from any dangerous indiscretions."
"Just so," agreed the Marshal, with the flicker of a smile.
The Court Chamberlain, at all events, spoke in all sincerity. His
hereditary instinct alone would have been enough to ensure his loyalty
to his new Sovereigns, whatever he might think of them in private. And
they were his own "finds," which gave them an added value in his
estimation, as will easily be understood by any collector of
curiosities.