"You little vulgar thing!" says the Princess. "You beast!" says Gruffanuff. "Get out of my sight!" says the Queen. "Go away with you, do!" says the Princess. "Quit the premises!" says Gruffanuff. Alas! and woe is me! very lamentable events had occurred to Betsinda that morning, and all in consequence of that fatal warming-pan business of the previous night. The King had offered to marry her; of course her Majesty the Queen was jealous: Bulbo had fallen in love with her; of course Angelica was furious; Giglio was in love with her, and oh, what a fury Gruffy was in! "Give her the rags she wore when she came into the house, and turn her out of it!" cries the Queen. "Mind she does not go with _my_ shoes on, which I lent her so kindly," says the Princess; and indeed the Princess' shoes were a great deal too big for Betsinda. "Come with me, you filthy hussy!" and taking up the Queen's poker the cruel Gruffanuff drove Betsinda into her room. The Countess went to the glass box in which she had kept Betsinda's old cloak, and shoes this ever so long, and said, "Take those rags, you little beggar creature, and strip off everything belonging to honest people, and go about your business." And she actually tore off the poor little delicate thing's back almost all her things, and told her to be off out of the house. Poor Betsinda huddled the cloak round her back, on which were embroidered the letters PRIN ... ROSAL ... and then came a great rent. As for the shoe, what was she to do with one poor little tootsey sandal? The string was still to it, so she hung it round her neck. "Won't you give me a pair of shoes to go out in the snow, mum, if you please, mum?" cried the poor child. "No, you wicked beast!" says Gruffanuff, driving her along with the poker--driving her down the cold stairs--driving her through the cold hall--flinging her out into the cold street, so that the knocker itself shed tears to see her! But a kind Fairy made the soft snow warm for her little feet, and she wrapped herself up in the ermine of her mantle, and was gone! "And now let us think about breakfast," says the greedy Queen. "What dress shall I put on, mamma? the pink or the pea-green?" says Angelica. "Which do you think the dear Prince will like best?" "Mrs. V.!" sings out the King from his dressing-room, "let us have sausages for breakfast! Remember we have Prince Bulbo staying with us!" And they all went to get ready. Nine o'clock came, and they were all in the breakfast room, and no Prince Bulbo as yet. The urn was hissing and humming: the muffins were smoking--such a heap of muffins! the eggs were done; there was a pot of raspberry jam, and coffee, and a beautiful chicken and tongue on the side-table. Marmatonio the cook brought in the sausages. Oh, how nice they smelt! "Where is Bulbo?" said the King. "John, where is his Royal Highness?"