First she dusted and dusted and dusted; then she swept and swept and swept; then she sewed and sewed and sewed. When anybody of superior station or age came into the room she rose and curtsied and stood with her hands behind her back, while she was being spoken to. When anybody said, "I wonder where I put my so-and-so," she jumped up and said, "Let _me_ fetch it," even if it was upstairs. After dinner she made up a basket of provisions and took them to the old women who lived near the castle; to some of them she sang or read aloud, and when at one cottage she was asked, "Now won't you give me a little dance," she smiled bravely and said, "I'm afraid I don't dance very well." I think that was rather sweet of her; if I had been the fairy I should have let her off the rest of the day. When she got back to the Palace she drank two glasses of warm milk, with the skin on, and then went and weeded the Countess's lawn; and once when she trod by accident on a bed of flowers, she left the footprint there instead of scraping it over hastily, and pretending that she hadn't been near the place, as you would have done. And at half-past six she kissed everybody good-night (including Udo) and went to bed. So ended July the Twentieth, perhaps the most memorable day in Euralian history. * * * * * Udo and Hyacinth spent the great day peacefully in the library. A gentleman for all his fur, Udo had not told the Princess about Wiggs's refusal to help him. Besides, a man has his dignity. To be turned into a mixture of three animals by a woman of thirty, and to be turned back again by a girl of ten, is to be too much the plaything of the sex. It was time he did something for himself. "Now then, how did that bit of Sacharino's go? Let me see." He beat time with a paw. "'Blood for something, something, some----' Something like that. 'Blood for--er--blood for--er----' No, it's gone again. I know there was a bit of blood in it." "I'm sure you'll get it soon," said Hyacinth. "It sounds as thought it's going to be just the sort of thing that's wanted." "Oh, I shall get it all right. Some of the words have escaped me for the moment, that's all. 'Blood--er--blood.' You must have heard of it, Princess: it's about blood for he who something; you must know the one I mean. "I know I've heard of it," said the Princess, wrinkling her forehead, "only I can't quite think of it for the moment. It's about a--a----" "Yes, that's it," said Udo. Then they both looked up at the ceiling with their heads on one side and murmured to themselves. But noon came and still they hadn't thought of it. After a simple meal they returned to the library. "I think I'd better write to Coronel," said Udo, "and ask him about it." "I thought you said his name was Sacharino." "Oh, this is not the poet, it's just a friend of mine, but he's rather good at this sort of thing. The trouble is that it takes such a long time for a letter to get there and back."