"WHOSE LIGHTS ARE FLED, WHOSE GARLANDS DEAD"
Daphne had taken her seat in the car with somewhat conflicting feelings.
She was going to Clairdelune, where she would be reunited to Giroflé--an
altogether joyous prospect, if she could hope to find the Giroflé with
whom she had last parted. But he was now the magnificent young Prince
Mirliflor, and it was quite uncertain whether she would even be able to
recognise him. It would be dreadful if she discovered that she did not
care for him any longer! Perhaps it was anxiety, but still more probably
the fact of her Fairy blood that prevented her from being overcome by
the somnolence that none of purely British birth seemed able to resist
for long after entering that magic car.
Daphne was not in the least drowsy, and thus was startled, after the
Palace and Eswareinmal had vanished out of sight, by hearing the Baron
suddenly order the storks to go to the Chapel in the forest of
Schlangenzweigen, and seeing them wheel in a direction she knew was not
that of their original destination. "What are you doing, Baron?" she
cried. "I thought you were to take me straight to Clairdelune?"
The Baron put his hand to his heart (which he had once more been obliged
to compress by a metal hoop) before he could speak. "It is now time," he
began, "that you should be told who you are, Madam, and the glorious
future that awaits you." And, with a prolixity that may here be avoided,
he informed her of her right to the crown of Märchenland and of the
Marshal's arrangements for placing her on the throne.
"But I don't want to be placed on the throne!" said Daphne. "Do you
really think I should turn out these poor Wibberley-Stimpsons now--when
they behaved so decently in letting me go? It would be too horribly mean
of me if I did."
At this he thought it his duty to enlighten her upon Queen Selina's
perfidy, which naturally altered Daphne's opinion, but did not shake her
determination.
"If she is so keen about her crown she may keep it," she said. "All I
care for now is to get to Clairdelune and see Giroflé--I mean
Mirliflor."
"But," objected the Baron, employing the Marshal's argument, "we should
arrive there days before the Prince."
"Then," said Daphne imperiously, "tell the storks to take us to
him--wherever he is."
"If I did so," he objected, "the Marshal's plan would fall through!"
"And what if it does? How do you know that he's to be trusted? I always
thought myself he had a bad face, and I don't feel at all inclined to
put myself in his power. So you will please not be a pig, Baron, but do
as I say."
No doubt her diction should have been more on a level with her dignity,
but then it must be remembered that she had not been brought up as a
prospective Fairy Queen.
"I am convinced," he persisted, "that the Marshal's devotion to your
Majesty's cause is beyond suspicion."
"And I'm quite sure that it isn't," retorted Daphne. "If, as you tell
me, Baron, I am your Queen, it's your duty to obey my orders, and I
order you to take me to Mirliflor." He did not venture to oppose her any
longer, so he gave the necessary command, and the great birds wheeled
round once more towards Clairdelune.
* * * * *
Mirliflor had discovered, after accomplishing a third of his journey,
that his horse had suddenly gone so lame that it was unable to proceed
at any pace but a walk. He had dismounted, and was leading it until he
could reach a hostelry and provide himself with a fresh steed, when he
heard a loud throbbing in the air behind him. The next moment a large
flight of storks passed over his head and descended with a car on a spot
some yards in advance of him. He saw at once that one of the occupants
was Daphne, and leaving his horse by the wayside he went forward to meet
her, not without some constraint and uncertainty, however, for his fear
that she would love him no longer had not ceased to haunt him.
She had alighted and was standing still, her face expressing wonder and
something of alarm. Could this splendid gallant cavalier really be her
homely Giroflé? she was thinking, and if he were, how could he help her
to overcome this paralysing sense of his being a stranger? He came
towards her, feeling almost as shy as she.
"Daphne! my dearest!" he said, stretching out his arms, "am I so changed
that you can't care for me any more?" And, as she heard his voice, all
her doubts and apprehensions suddenly fled.
"No," she murmured, placing a fair hand on each of his broad shoulders
and looking fearlessly up into his face. "You are just the same,
really. My very own Giroflé! And, oh, I'm so glad!"
"And you forgive me for deceiving you, dearest?" he asked when the first
rapture of meeting and reassurance was over. "I was bound in honour to
tell you nothing."
"I know," she said; "the Court Godmother is to blame for that--not you.
And I was prepared to find you changed, Gir--Mirliflor--only--not quite
so changed as this."
"If you would love me better as I was, darling," he said, "tell me so,
and I will make her transform me again. I will become Giroflé for the
rest of my life--rather than lose you!"
"I don't think she is well enough to be asked to do that now," replied
Daphne. "And, besides"--and here she held him from her at arm's
length--"besides, now I look at you, you really are rather nice, you
know! No, darling, I won't have you altered again."
After all, this was only in accordance with Märchenland's precedents.
Did Beauty, for instance, resent her Beast's emergence into a Prince?
All the same, Daphne was a little ashamed of herself for the increasing
satisfaction she felt in Mirliflor's good looks--it seemed almost an
infidelity to Giroflé--but she could not help it, and did not even try.
The Baron had tactfully remained with the storks until, in his opinion,
it was time to interrupt the lovers, when he stepped towards them,
cracking loudly.
"Sire," he said, "accept my congratulations on a good fortune that is
perchance even greater than you yet know. You have won a lady who is not
only lovely, but, as I shall show you, no other than the daughter of
our late Prince Chrysopras, and thus rightfully entitled to the crown of
Märchenland."
"And you knew this, Daphne?" cried Mirliflor when the Baron had
concluded. "Why did you say nothing to me about it?"
"I only heard of it myself just now in the car," she said. "And what
does it matter? I don't want to claim the crown--all I want is to live
at Clairdelune with you."
But he told her it was her duty to her Country to assert her just
rights, and, on being informed of the appointment with the Marshal, he
was in favour of keeping it. "He will be useful," he said, "if he is an
honest supporter of your cause."
"But I'm quite certain he isn't!" said Daphne.
"We can only make sure by meeting him," he replied, "and as of course I
shall be with you, you will be in no danger."
He had no weapon but the sword that had served him so well at
Drachenstolz, which he had brought away with him rather as a _souvenir_
than with any idea that he might need it on his journey, but Daphne felt
that, so long as Mirliflor was at her side, she had nothing to fear, and
so she readily consented to re-enter the car and be taken to the Chapel
in the forest, where the Marshal in all probability was awaiting her
arrival.
As the car neared the borders of the forest, Mirliflor took out the silk
cap which the Baron had lent him. "I meant to have returned this to you,
Baron," he said, "but I find I have it still. With your permission, I
will keep it a little longer, as I fancy it may be useful. Don't be
alarmed, darling," he added to Daphne, "if you don't see me when I put
this on. Remember that, though I shall be invisible, I shall be near
you all the time."
"I'll try to remember, Mirliflor," said Daphne. "But--but don't stay
invisible longer than you can possibly help."
* * * * *
The Chapel stood in a clearing in the very middle of the forest, and the
storks calculated their descent with such nicety that they brought the
car up in front of the door.
The Marshal, in his plumed helmet, golden cuirass, and high boots of
gilded leather, was waiting, and now came forward to help Daphne to
alight. His vizor was raised, but the company of knights with him wore
theirs down, so that it was impossible for her to know who they were or
whether they intended her good or ill.
"We expected you long ere this, Lady Daphne," said the Marshal as he
handed her out.
"Did you, Marshal?" she said, trying to appear unconcerned. "We went a
little out of our way." She noticed that, either by accident or design,
several of the knights had interposed themselves between herself and the
Baron.
"We have the less time at our disposal," said the Marshal, "so I will
come to the point at once. You have no doubt been already informed of
your rights, and that I and my companions are here to place you on the
throne, provided you accept my conditions?"
"I--I was not told of any conditions," said Daphne.
"There is but one," he said, and at this the Chapel door was thrown open
and a priest of extremely disreputable exterior appeared on the
threshold, with the lighted altar as his background. "Wed me--and you
shall be Queen of Märchenland."
"I've no wish to be that," she replied, "and, as you know, Marshal, I
have already promised to marry Prince Mirliflor."
"You may dismiss all thought of that," he said blandly, "for if you
refuse my hand, both you and the Baron will meet with instant death, the
car and birds will also be destroyed and buried, and I have so arranged
that it will be believed that her Majesty Queen Selina has had you
removed to the distant land from which you came."
"Marshal," pleaded Daphne, trying hard to remember that Mirliflor was
really by her side, "I must have time--time to think over your--your
proposal."
"It may help you to decide, Lady Daphne," he said, "if you reflect that,
in any case, you will never again behold Prince Mirliflor of
Clairdelune."
"And why not, Marshal?" said Mirliflor, as he flung away the cap of
darkness and stepped in front of his beloved.
The Marshal knew at once that his fate was sealed. He stood no chance
whatever against a Prince who had slain a dragon singlehanded. The
knights also seemed to recognise this, or else their sympathy had veered
to Daphne's side, for they stood back in a circle without attempting to
interfere, while the priest, who perhaps had not till then understood
that the marriage ceremony was to be compulsory, promptly re-entered the
little Chapel and blew out all the candles.
The combat was over in a second or two--as any combat would necessarily
be in which one of the antagonists was equipped with an irresistible
sword. Mirliflor, to be sure, did not know that he possessed this
somewhat unsportsmanlike advantage, and had disdained to shelter
himself, as he might have done, under the cap. But it is more than
possible that if he had known more about the sword, he would have
stretched the point of honour in this particular case. As has already
been seen, he had occasional lapses from the ideals the Fairy had
bestowed on him at his baptism, and he was quite incapable of troubling
himself about them when Daphne's life was at stake. Perhaps he ought to
have been more consistently punctilious, but he was not--which was
fortunate for both of them.
As soon as the knights saw the Marshal fall, they hastened to protest
their loyalty to their young Queen and offer their congratulations,
which Daphne thought it politic to accept at their face value. Horses
were found for her and Mirliflor, who decided to make, with a picked
body of the knights, for a village a league from Eswareinmal and await
developments there. Of the rest of the party, some were instructed to go
back to the Palace and report the Marshal's death while hunting, the
rest remained to bury his body, and it was one of these who found the
packet, and, most unluckily for Queen Selina, thought it necessary to
deliver it in hot haste to its addressee.
The Baron was directed to go on in the car to Clairdelune and inform
King Tournesol that his son had found a bride at last.
On reaching the village near Eswareinmal, Mirliflor had sent on two of
his escort into the city to ascertain the state of feeling there. They
brought back the unexpected news that all the citizens now knew that the
Lady Daphne was entitled to the Crown and were demanding her; that
Queen Selina, with her husband and son, had been imprisoned on suspicion
of having made away with her, and, if she were not forthcoming by an
early date, would be executed publicly without fail.
In the heat of his resentment at the treachery which had so nearly
succeeded in parting him from Daphne for ever, Mirliflor declared that
they should be left to the doom which they would certainly meet if
Daphne's return were kept secret for a few days.
"Mirliflor said that--not Giroflé," she told him. "Giroflé would never
be so horribly cold-blooded. But even Mirliflor didn't really mean it!
Of _course_ we can't let these Stimpson people be executed. Besides, I
_know_--I can't say how, but I _do_ know--that Mr. Stimpson and
Clarence, at any rate, haven't been parties to any plot to get rid of
me. And as for Mrs. Stimpson, I dislike her, and I want to go _on_
disliking her--which I couldn't possibly do after she had her head cut
off! So we'll go into Eswareinmal at once, Mirliflor, and do what we can
for the poor things."
"I spoke in haste, dearest," said Mirliflor. "I was wrong, and you are
right as usual."
"And now we're _both_ going to be right, darling!" said Daphne.
* * * * *
"I wish," Clarence remarked later the same day, "I wish these windows
looked out on the front. We might see her coming back in that blessed
stork-car. She'll be sure to come the quickest way when she hears we're
in the soup like this--don't you think so, Mater?"
"I'm sure _I_ don't know!" said the tortured Queen Selina. "She mayn't
come back at all. I mean, she may keep the messengers and leave us to
perish. It is only what I should expect of her!"
"No, dash it all, Mater, she's too much of a sport for that," he said.
"She'll either turn up or send word that she's all right."
"Don't deceive yourself, Clarence!" said his mother. "I know better than
you can, and I tell you that she will do neither."
"Not when it's to save our lives?" he replied. "She's bound
to--unless--unless anything has happened to her. I'm a bit worried about
that, because--well, time's getting _on_, you know--what?"
"I trust, my boy," said his father, "we shall not be brought to
the--er--scaffold by any mistake of that kind. If that occurred, it
would be most un--" he caught his wife's eye and substituted
"unsatisfactory. I'm not sure," he added, "but I fancy I hear shouting.
Seems to come from below."
"It certainly _is_ shouting," said Clarence, "and it's getting louder.
They're coming this way. I--I hope I'm wrong--but I've a strong
impression that we're going to get it in the neck after all!"
"Sidney! Clarence!" cried Queen Selina, as she sank on her knees, unable
to bear her guilty burden any longer. "I--I can't die without asking you
to forgive me for--for what I have brought on you!"
"It's no fault of yours, Mater," said Clarence. "Just the family luck,
that's all!"
"Ah, but listen--listen!" implored his Mother; but, before she could
proceed, the door was suddenly unlocked, and Prince Tapfer von
Schneiderleinheimer entered with every sign of respect.
"I am charged by her Majesty Queen Daphne to desire your attendance in
the Throne Room," he said, "and to convey her and Prince Mirliflor's
regret that you should have been subjected to any inconvenience by
having permitted her departure to Clairdelune."
Queen Selina--or rather Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson, as she was now once
more--hastily rose from her knees. So the Baron had disobeyed his
orders, and Miss Heritage did not even know that they had been given!
This was indeed an unhoped-for deliverance. _What_ a mercy, she thought,
that it had come just before she had spoken words she could never have
recalled! "Kindly assure--your Mistress," she said, with all the dignity
of fallen grandeur, "that while we cannot but feel that we have been
most unjustly suspected, we are willing to make every allowance for the
circumstances, and shall have much pleasure in coming down to offer our
congratulations presently. But first I want to see the Princess Royal
and Princess Ruby if they are well enough to leave their dungeons."
"Your daughters, Madam, have merely been required to remain in their own
apartments, and are in perfect health," he replied; "I will have them
conducted to you immediately."
"Oh, Mummy!" exclaimed Ruby a little later, as she ran to her Mother's
arms, "is it really true? Aren't you and Daddy King and Queen any more?"
"No, my darling," said Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson, "it seems the people
would rather have Miss Heritage."
"Oh, I don't mind so much if it's Daphne. And will Prince Mirliflor be
King?"
"I really can't say how they will arrange it--nor does it interest me
_what_ they may do."
"It does _me_," said Ruby. "I hope they'll let us stay here with them."
"I consider it most unlikely--even if I were willing to be a guest in my
own Palace. But I've no doubt they will make some suitable provision for
us."
"Speaking for myself, Mother," said Edna, "I should be far happier
leading a simple life in retirement than ever I've been in this
pretentious place. And, though I never cared much about being a
Princess, we can scarcely be treated as commoners after what we _have_
been."
"I shall settle all these matters myself with Miss Herit--Queen Daphne,
I suppose I _ought_ to call her, but it's so difficult to get into just
at once. And now I think we will all go down to the Throne Room.
Remember on no account to show the slightest ill-feeling. Let her see
that, if we have lost everything else, we still retain our manners."
She was herself so far from betraying any ill-feeling when she entered
the Throne Room that she was almost overwhelmingly affectionate.
"My dear child!" she said, advancing to Daphne, who was standing in the
centre of the room with Mirliflor, "so pleased to see you both back! but
we're _all_ of us _that_! And, as I was saying to His--to my
husband--only a few minutes ago, 'I'm sure, Sidney,' I said, 'there's no
person in the world I would give up my crown to so willingly as I would
to dear Miss Heritage!'"
"Most happy," said her husband. "We've abdicated already, your--your
Majesty--both of us--as soon as we knew the facts."
"I--I'm most awfully glad to see your Majesty back again," said
Clarence, noting the flush on her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes as
she glanced at Mirliflor, whom he envied more than ever. "I was
beginning to think I--er--shouldn't--you ran things a trifle close."
"Perhaps I did," said Daphne, "but you see, I thought it was wiser to
try to find Mirliflor, before being taken to--to Clairdelune." She said
this quite simply, for she could see that, as she had been sure of from
the first, both Clarence and his father were no parties to Mrs.
Stimpson's design, and she was anxious to spare them all knowledge of it
if she could.
Her words only confirmed Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson's sense of security;
Daphne evidently suspected nothing, probably because the false Marshal
had never handed the Baron his secret instructions. "_Much_ the best
plan, I'm sure, your Majesty!" she agreed, "though it was fortunate for
_us_ that you found dear Prince Mirliflor so soon. However, it has all
ended happily, so we will say no more about it. And now I want to beg
that you mustn't consider Us. If you would like to have possession of
the Palace at once, you have only to say so. Or if I could be of any use
to you by staying on for a little, just to show you how things ought to
be done----?"
Daphne forced herself to be civil to her for her family's sake, not her
own.
"It is very good of you," she said, "but I'm afraid it won't be possible
for you to stay here."
"Well," said Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson, "we shall be perfectly satisfied
with any residence--if it's only quite a moderate-sized castle--that
your Majesty is good enough to put at our disposal. Not _too_ far from
here, or poor Ruby"--here she glanced at her younger daughter, who had
taken possession of one of Daphne's hands, which she was kissing and
fondling--"would be _quite_ inconsolable at losing her dearest friend!"
But her remarks were lost on Daphne, for just then, to Mrs. Stimpson's
surprise and secret dismay, the entrance was formally announced of the
Court Godmother, whom she had imagined to be at least moribund, if not
dead. She came in, looking frail and feeble, but still with much of the
energy and vitality that had seemed to have departed for ever.
"Really," thought the disgusted Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson, "Mother
Hubbard's dog is a fool to her!"
Daphne had already gone to greet her and lead her to a seat. "I'm much
better, my child--in fact almost as well as ever. A day or two ago I
thought I was dying--but a little rest and the good news of your return
have quite set me up again. I begin to think I shall see my second
century out yet!"
"It is indeed a marvellous recovery, my dear Court Godmother!" chimed in
Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson. "We've all been _so_ anxious! We should have
sent to inquire, only we couldn't--because--well, you'll hardly
_believe_ it, but we've been imprisoned (and very nearly _executed_,
too!) on a ridiculous charge of having made away with our dear young
Queen here! When, as _you_ know, I had actually gone out of my way to
have her sent to Clairdelune as soon as I found you were too ill to see
to it yourself."
"And well for you that you did so!" said the grim old Fairy, "for if you
had played--or even sought to play--her false, I would have seen to
it--old and ailing as I am--that such treason did not go unpunished!"
Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson shivered inwardly under the implacable old eyes;
she knew well that she could expect no mercy if the Fairy discovered
that these secret orders had ever been handed to the Baron. Only, as
the Baron had never received them, he could tell her nothing, and as the
Council now believed them to be a forgery of the Marshal's, Mrs.
Stimpson felt herself fairly safe.
"Yes, dear Court Godmother," she said sweetly; "but you see, I
haven't--so we needn't discuss that _now_, need we? When you came in
just now, I was just telling her Majesty that we had no desire to stay
on at the Palace longer than is unavoidable, but that, naturally, we
were anxious to know where accommodation would be found for us--nothing
grand, of course, _any_ fairly large _château_ would suit us."
"I'm sorry," said Daphne, after stooping to kiss Ruby, "but that is
quite impossible."
"Impossible?" cried Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson. "I can't believe that your
Majesty would turn us out of our own Palace, without a home to go to!"
"You have 'Inglegarth,'" said Daphne, "and as soon as the Baron returns
with the car he shall take you there."
"I am much obliged to your Majesty," returned Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson,
her complexion deepening to a rich purple, "very much obliged for such
truly generous treatment! Some people might think that, considering that
you wouldn't be Queen at all but for our kindness in taking you with us,
when we were brought here--by no seeking of _ours_--to reign over this
ridiculous country--I say, _some_ people might call this rather shabby
and ungrateful. Especially when we gave way the moment we were told
there had been a mistake--sooner than make any fuss or trouble--as few
Sovereigns in our position would have done! And now it seems we're to be
rewarded by being bundled back to a suburban residence which, whatever
else may be said for it, is absurdly inadequate for any retired
Royalties! But you will find we are not to be got rid of quite so
easily. I absolutely decline to go back to Gablehurst to be an ordinary
nobody after what I have been. Nothing in the world shall induce me to!"
"My love," said her husband, "we can't stay here if we're not wanted."
"No, Mater," said Clarence, "we've got to clear."
"I shall be thankful to get away myself," added Edna. "What is
Märchenland, after all?--just a petty little Kingdom that nobody even
knows is in existence!"
"_You_ may go if you please," Mrs. Stimpson declared. "_I_ shall
stay--if I have to sit and starve to death at the Palace Gates! And a
pretty scandal _that_ will be!"
"If you were allowed to starve," said the Fairy Vogelflug--"which you
wouldn't be, you'd get food enough--but no sympathy. So I should advise
you myself to return to your own Country, where you are probably held in
more esteem than you are here. And now," she added to Daphne, "I must
ask your Majesty's leave to withdraw to my own apartments. I shall be
obliged if you would send the Baron to me as soon as he arrives from
Clairdelune." And with this, and a stiff but stately curtesy to the
young Queen, she hobbled out of the Throne Room.
"I shall maintain to my dying breath," declared Mrs. Stimpson
vehemently, "that, after governing this Country as we have done, we have
earned the right to stay in it. I consider we are not only entitled to
that, but to a suitable establishment and pension. Your Majesty can
surely spare us something out of all we have given up!"
Daphne intimated that she wished to reply to Mrs. Stimpson in private,
whereupon the others withdrew out of hearing and left them together.
"I hate having to say it," she began in a low voice, "but you really
can't stay here on any terms, Mrs. Stimpson--I think I needn't tell you
why."
"Your Majesty surely doesn't suspect me of any----?"
"I don't suspect," said Daphne, "I _know_ how you tried to part me from
Prince Mirliflor for ever--and how nearly you succeeded. _He_ knows,
too.... Oh, you are in no danger from us--_we_ shall say nothing. But
there is someone else who _might_."
"Not--not the Baron?" cried Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson, so thrown off her
guard that she failed to see how completely the question gave her away.
"Yes," said Daphne gravely, "the Baron. You heard what the Court
Godmother said about seeing him as soon as he returns? We have forbidden
him to speak--but it's quite possible that she will get the truth out of
him--and that might be rather disagreeable for you, mightn't it?"
"Very," agreed the trembling Mrs. Stimpson. "She'd have no mercy on
me--on any of us!"
"I'm afraid not," said Daphne, "and she might not listen even to me.
So--don't you think it would be wiser to change your mind about staying
and go back to Gablehurst before she _does_ see him?"
"Much," said Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson in a half-choked voice--"much!
if--if it can be arranged."
"I think it can. The journey to Clairdelune and back won't tire the
storks--they will be quite able to take you over to England as soon as
you are ready to start."
"We'll go and get ready at once," said Mrs. Stimpson, "so as not to keep
the car waiting."
"You have plenty of time. It can't be here for some hours yet."
"Oh, I hope the Baron will make haste--and--and if your Majesty _could_
only prevent him from seeing the Court Godmother till after we are
gone!"
"She will probably be asleep," said Daphne, "but in any case he shall
have instructions to take you home the very moment he arrives at the
Palace. I think," she added, "that is all we had to say to one another."
"Except," said Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson, "that your Majesty really must
allow me to express my deep sense of the very handsome----"
"No, _please_!" said Daphne, turning away, for she felt that she had had
as much of Mrs. Stimpson as she could stand just then.
That good lady, having partially recovered her equanimity, retreated to
her husband and family.
"I've been talking it over with her Majesty, Sidney," she announced,
"and she has _quite_ brought me to see that, under the circumstances, we
shall really be more comfortable in dear old England. So she has kindly
arranged for us to be taken home in the car directly it gets back from
Clairdelune."
"Glad to hear it, my love," said the ex-Monarch. "Personally, I much
prefer 'Inglegarth' to this sort of thing."
"But I say," Clarence put in, glancing down at his fantastic attire, "I
don't quite see myself going back to Gablehurst in _this_ get up. Wish
I knew what had become of the kit we came in!"
It was now the hour when the Court was accustomed to go up and change
their costumes before dinner, and Daphne felt a difficulty as to the
proper course to pursue with the Wibberley-Stimpsons. Could she without
indelicacy invite them to sit as guests at what had lately been their
own table? And yet it seemed hardly human to leave them out. She decided
that the former course was on the whole less open to objection.
"I hope," she said to Mrs. Stimpson, with a touch of shyness, "that you
will all give me the pleasure of dining with us this evening? You see,
you must have something to eat before such a long journey."
"Your Majesty is most kind," said Mrs. Stimpson in a great flurry, "but,
if you will excuse us from accepting what--no one knows better than
I--is really a command, I--I really _don't_ think we should have time to
sit through a long dinner. We--we might miss the car--and besides,
there's the question of dressing. If we could have a few sandwiches and
a little wine in one of the vestibules while we are waiting for the car,
that will be all we shall require!"
"You shall do exactly as you please about it," replied Daphne. She was
greatly relieved, as one reason for her hesitation in asking them had
been the dread that Mr. Stimpson might think himself called upon to make
an after-dinner speech.
Her ladies-in-waiting were already in her Tiring-Chamber, highly
delighted by the prospect of arraying a Queen whom, even when she had
been nominally one of themselves, they had always not merely admired but
adored.
It had suddenly occurred to Daphne that the Stimpson family might find
themselves on their return to Gablehurst in certain difficulties against
which she felt bound to do what she could to protect them.
She thought over the best means of doing this, which took so much time
to carry out that the business of arraying her for her first banquet as
a Royal Hostess had to be got through more hurriedly than her ladies of
the Bedchamber thought at all decorous.
But she knew that Mirliflor would be well content with her, however she
looked--and as a matter of fact he not only was, but had every reason to
be so.
The Wibberley-Stimpsons had already ascertained that the clothes they
had worn on their arrival in Märchenland had been carefully laid up in
one of the Royal wardrobes, from which they were brought at their
earnest request. They put them on in frantic haste, and, in deadly fear
of being surprised by the Royal Household, they stole down the great
Staircase to an antechamber by the Entrance Hall. There they found a
table set with every description of tempting food, to which all did
justice but Mrs. Stimpson, the state of whose nerves had entirely taken
away her appetite. She was continually starting up and saying, "Listen!
I'm _sure_ I hear these storks!"
"You'd better eat something, Mater," Clarence said. "It's the last
dinner we shall ever have in Märchenland."
"I can't," she replied, "I don't know how any of _you_ can.... There go
the silver trumpets! She's going into the Banqueting Hall now. On Prince
Mirliflor's arm, most likely! How she can have the _heart_ when she
_must_ know we are still here!"
"She _did_ ask us to dinner, my love," Mr. Stimpson mildly reminded her.
"She had the execrable taste to do that, Sidney," replied his wife, "and
I think the manner in which I declined must have been a lesson to
her.... Dear me, is that car _never_ coming?"
She said that many times during the evening, as they sat on in the ebony
and ivory chamber, while the strains of music reached them faintly from
the distant Ballroom.
Clarence thought gloomily of the dance on the night of the Coronation,
and how his mother had forbidden him to choose Daphne as his partner.
Perhaps, if he had insisted on having his own way--if he had not limited
himself to a merely morganatic alliance, she might have--but it was too
late to grouse about that now! He endeavoured to cheer himself by the
thought that he would very soon be in a civilised land of cigarettes.
It was getting late, and the music had now ceased, from which they
gathered that the Queen and Court had already retired. "She _might_ have
had the common civility to say good-bye to us!" complained Mrs.
Stimpson, "but of course she is too grand now to condescend so far! Not
that _I_ have any desire to see her again. On the contrary!"
The doors of the Vestibule were thrown open here and one of the ushers
announced: "Her Majesty the Queen and His Royal Highness Prince
Mirliflor."
"Coming here to triumph over us!" was Mrs. Stimpson's comment as she
rose.
"We came to wish you a pleasant journey to Gablehurst," explained
Daphne, as she entered, followed by Mirliflor. "I hope you won't have to
wait for the car _much_ longer, but I've told the attendants in the
Hall to let you know the minute it is here."
She was looking radiantly lovely and girlish--and queenly as well, in
spite of the fact that she was still uncrowned. But if she had had the
right to wear her crown, she was incapable of doing so just then.
Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson made a curtsey that might have been lower if she
had had any practice--but all the curtseying previously had been done to
herself. "We thank your Majesty," she said. "I too hope there will be no
more of this delay. I am getting worn out with all this waiting. Oh,
while I think of it," she went on (the desire to be offensive overcoming
any fear of the consequences), "of course we are not in a position _now_
to give really _valuable_ wedding presents--and I'm afraid mine must be
a _very_ humble offering, particularly as it needs repairing. However,
such as it is, perhaps your Majesty will honour me by accepting it with
our congratulations and _very_ best wishes?" And she offered the jewel
which she had formerly acquired from Daphne. Daphne's eyebrows
contracted for an instant, but the next moment she laughed.
"I really couldn't, Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson!" she said. "You see, you
have already given it to Clarence, and I mustn't deprive him of it."
"Won't you accept it from _me_, then?" he said awkwardly. "I--I shan't
have any use for it now."
She shook her head. "You will please me so much better by keeping it,"
she said gently--"in memory of Märchenland."
It was true that it had once belonged to her father--the father she had
never known--but then it had also belonged to Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson,
and Daphne was conscious now of an invincible unwillingness to accept
any gift from that lady.
"I--I'd do anything to please you," said Clarence, taking the pendant
from his mother and slipping it into the pocket of his dinner-jacket.
Ruby, in the white silk frock she had last worn at "Inglegarth," was
clinging to Daphne. "I don't want to go back!" she wailed, "I want to
stay here with you. Won't you send for me some day? Say you will; do say
you will!"
Daphne stooped to caress and comfort her, and also to hide her own
emotion. "I wish I could, darling," she said tenderly, "but I'm afraid,
I'm _afraid_ I mustn't make any promises that I'm not sure of being able
to keep."
"Then say you will--_perhaps_!" entreated Ruby, but her mother promptly
interposed.
"Ruby, my dear," she said, "you're forgetting how far her Majesty is now
our superior. A Palace is no longer a fit place for any of us to visit,
and I consider it best we should remain in future strictly in our
respective spheres."
"Then I will go to mine at once," said Daphne, smiling. "Good-bye, Mrs.
Wibberley-Stimpson. Good-bye, Edna." She held out her hand to both of
them, but they curtsied formally without offering to take it. "Good-bye,
dearest little Ruby--I hope your next governess will love you nearly as
much as I do--she can't _quite_! Good-bye, Mr. Stimpson--I think you
will be rather glad to be back in the City again, won't you?"
"I shall, indeed, your Majesty," he said. "To tell you the honest truth,
I don't think I was ever cut out for a monarch."
It was Clarence's turn next, and when he saw her offering him her hand
with the old frank friendliness, he had a renewed sense of his own
unworthiness.
"No," he said in a low voice, "you can't want to shake hands with--with
such a hopeless rotter as I've been!"
"I shouldn't," she replied, "if I weren't sure that you could be
something very much better if you chose. And I know you _will_ choose."
"I will," he said, "I swear I will--if I ever get the chance!"
"Your chance will come. Quite soon, perhaps. And when it does, remember
that I believe in you--and, good-bye, Clarence."
"Good-bye--Daphne," he said brokenly. As he took her hand he thought
with a keen pang that he had never held it before, and never would
again. And the time had been--or so at least he imagined--when he might
have made that hand his own for ever!
"Good night, Mirliflor," said Daphne, as he held aside the hangings for
her. "We shall meet to-morrow."
She passed into the great Hall with a dignity the more charming for
being so natural and unconscious--and that was the last Clarence was
ever destined to see of her.
He turned to Mirliflor, whose eyes still betrayed the pride he felt in
his beloved. "I don't mind telling you, old chap--er--Prince Mirliflor,
that I took to you from the start, and--as I can't be the lucky man
myself, I'm jolly glad it's to be _you_!"
"Thank you," said Mirliflor, who was less given to florid phrases than
the average Fairy Prince. "So am I."
"I dare say," Clarence went on, as he realised the contrast between his
own clothes and the magnificent costume that the old Fairy had provided
for her royal godson, "I dare say you're thinking we're not looking very
smart?"
Mirliflor was honestly able to disclaim having any impressions on the
subject.
"Well, these togs must seem a bit rummy to _you_--but I can assure you
that, for informal occasions like the present, they're quite the right
thing in England." (He had a momentary impulse to except his father's
white tie, but, after all, why should he say anything about that when
Mirliflor knew no better? So he decided to pass it), "Worn by the very
best Society."
Mirliflor politely accepted this information, and then made his
farewells. Edna's good wishes were couched in a spirit of frigid
magnanimity. She had too much self-respect to let him perceive that she
resented his fickleness.
They were now alone in the antechamber. From time to time Mrs.
Wibberley-Stimpson would rise impatiently and peer out into the vast
hall, now only lit by one or two flickering cressets, to see if the
stork-car had arrived--but the attendants in waiting always assured her
that it had not, and, after some fussing and fretting, she lay down on a
divan and fell into an uneasy slumber.
Her husband was snoring placidly; Ruby had cried herself to sleep long
before; Edna had brought down her lecture-notes, and was conscientiously
employing the time in polishing up her knowledge of English Literature.
Her notes on Nietzsche's philosophy had been torn out after the rupture
with the Count. Somehow the Nietzschean theories did not seem to work
quite well when carried into practice. But, after deciphering a very few
Literature notes, Edna found herself too drowsy to continue.
Clarence remained awake longest. He had wandered restlessly out into the
hall just to look at the great Staircase half lost in the gloom. Daphne
had ascended it a little while since. To-morrow she would come down,
fresh and radiant, to meet Mirliflor. Before long they would be married
and crowned, and live happy ever after in the good old Märchenland way.
Well, he wouldn't have to look on and see them doing it, which was some
consolation. He went back to the antechamber and regarded the sleeping
forms of his family with disillusioned eyes. "We look like Royalties--I
_don't_ think!" he said to himself. "No wonder they've booted us out.
Why, a bally rabbit-warren would!"
But this depressing reflection soon ceased to trouble him, unless it
still continued to shadow his dreams.