Jack stroked his moustache with a look of lamb-like innocence, and Sylvia could have shaken herself with annoyance because she could not help blushing and looking stupid and self-conscious. Pixie's melodious gurgle sounded from the background, and Viva cried severely-- "You couldn't have seen her, because she lived hundreds and hundreds of years ago, when you were a teeny baby. Golden hair down to her feet, and her teef were like pearls, and all the godfathers and godmuzzers came to the christening and gave her nice presinks, only one wicked old mugian who--" "Pardon me! One wicked old--?" "Mugian! He's a man what does things. They always have them in stories--that the mamma had forgotten to ask, so he was angry and said she should tumble downstairs when she was grown-up and be lame ever after till a beautiful prince made her better. Oh, but I shouldn't have told you that jest now. You must pitend that you forget I have told you. So then the beautiful princess--her true name was Mabel, but only I call her Norah because her hair was gold--" Now it was Jack's turn to gasp and search in vain for the connection between Norah and golden hair! It proved as impossible to discover as that between a sore throat and the Piper of Hamelin, but there was another allusion in the story which was too fortunate to be allowed to pass unnoticed. "The princess was lame, was she? and no one could make her better but the prince? That's very interesting. Could you tell me, now, how he managed the cure? It might be useful to me someday." "Was your princess a lame princess?" "I think you had better go on with your story, Viva!" Jack said hurriedly. "Your mother may call you away before it is finished, and I should be disappointed. When did the prince arrive on the scene?" "It doesn't get to that yet. So the princess lived in a house where there were no stairs. Only one day when she was walking through the wood, there was a little house and she went in, and she said, `Oh, what funny things!' and she went up them, and she tumbled down, and her foot was underneaf, so she was lame. An' she lay on the sofa, and the queen- mamma cried, and the godfathers and the godmuzzers came flying up, only they could do nothing, and the king said anyone should have the land who made her better, an' thousands an' thousands tried, an' at last the prince came riding along on a white horse, an' he looked froo the window--" "Jack dear, will you please come to the drawing-room? We want to consult you!" Bridgie's head peered round the corner of the door, her cheeks quite pink, her eyes shining with excitement. She gripped her brother's arm as he came to meet her, and whispered, "It's the most extraordinary thing--she really means it! She is charming, Jack, charming; I can't say `No' to her. Come and try what you can do!"