No, I am wrong. One person had discovered the open secret. In a villa not far from the Lord Mayor's house dwelt a Countess who was very rich and proud. Until Gerda came she had boasted the finest garden in Kisington, after the Lord Mayor's, made by a whole army of gardeners whom she kept at her command. She was quite sure of winning the prize, and it made her very gay, though she cared nothing at all about flowers. She left all the care of her garden to her gardeners and scarcely ever wandered down its lovely walks. But she longed to marry the Lord Mayor's son and live in a palace. It was the palace that she coveted as a prize, and the honor of being the Lord Mayor's daughter; to ride in the golden coach! She cared no more about Cedric himself than she did for her lovely flowers. One day this Countess, who had very sharp eyes, spied the Lord Mayor's son, in his disguise, going past her villa with his arms full of curious flowers such as were never before seen in Kisington-by-the-Sea. And because she had unusually sharp eyes the Countess knew who he was. "Aha!" she said to herself. "This is strange! Cedric is meddling with some garden. I must look into this!" Secretly she followed Cedric through the village and out to the seashore until he came to Gerda's garden. And there she saw him walking with the fair stranger up and down among the flowers. The secret was discovered. The Countess was a very wicked woman. When she looked over the transformed meadow and saw the beautiful garden which Gerda had made, she nearly died of rage. She knew at once that against this one her own garden had no chance of winning the prize. She stamped her feet in jealous fury and cried:-- "She shall not have the palace! She shall not ride in the golden coach! She shall not marry the Lord Mayor's son! I will see that she shall not!" The Countess stole home with wicked wishes in her heart and wicked plans in her head. The next day but one was the day of the award, so she had no time to lose. That night when every one was asleep she crept out of her villa and along the road by which she had followed the Lord Mayor's son, to Gerda's garden. Everything was quiet and peaceful. The flowers looked very fair in the moonlight, breathing drowsy perfumes. But the wicked woman cared nothing at all for them. Taking a great pair of shears from her cloak she moved quickly in and out among the garden beds, cutting and slashing the precious flowers and trampling them under foot. When she had finished her cruel work, not a single bud lifted its head from the ruin. The flower-beds looked as though a tempest had swept over them. Poor Gerda's garden was quite destroyed! The Countess chuckled as she hurried home through the night: "We shall see now who wins the prize!"