"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!"