“I send them indeed! Angelica dear! No, Giglio dear,” says she, mocking him, “_I_ was engaged in getting the rooms ready for His Royal Highness the Prince of Crim Tartary, who is coming to pay my papa’s Court a visit.” “The—Prince—of—Crim—Tartary!” Giglio said, aghast. “Yes, the Prince of Crim Tartary,” says Angelica, mocking him. “I dare say you never heard of such a country. What _did_ you ever hear of? You don’t know whether Crim Tartary is on the Red Sea or on the Black Sea, I dare say.” “Yes, I do, it’s on the Red Sea,” says Giglio, at which the Princess burst out laughing at him, and said, “Oh, you ninny! You are so ignorant, you are really not fit for society! You know nothing but about horses and dogs, and are only fit to dine in a mess-room with my Royal father’s heaviest dragoons. Don’t look so surprised at me, sir: go and put your best clothes on to receive the Prince, and let me get the drawing-room ready.” Giglio said, “Oh, Angelica, I didn’t think this of you. _This_ wasn’t your language to me when you gave me this ring, and I gave you mine in the garden, and you gave me that k—” But what k was we never shall know, for Angelica, in a rage, cried, “Get out, you saucy, rude creature! How dare you to remind me of your rudeness? As for your little trumpery twopenny ring, there, sir, there!” And she flung it out of the window. “It was my mother’s marriage-ring,” cried Giglio. “_I_ don’t care whose marriage-ring it was,” cries Angelica. “Marry the person who picks it up if she’s a woman; you shan’t marry _me_. And give me back _my_ ring. I’ve no patience with people who boast about the things they give away. _I_ know who’ll give me much finer things than you ever gave me. A beggarly ring indeed, not worth five shillings!” Now Angelica little knew that the ring which Giglio had given her was a fairy ring: if a man wore it, it made all the women in love with him; if a woman, all the gentlemen. The Queen, Giglio’s mother, quite an ordinary-looking person, was admired immensely whilst she wore this ring, and her husband was frantic when she was ill. But when she called her little Giglio to her, and put the ring on his finger, King Savio did not seem to care for his wife so much any more, but transferred all his love to little Giglio. So did everybody love him as long as he had the ring; but when, as quite a child, he gave it to Angelica people began to love and admire _her_; and Giglio, as the saying is, played only second fiddle. “Yes,” says Angelica, going on in her foolish ungrateful way. “_I_ know who’ll give me much finer things than your beggarly little pearl nonsense.” “Very good, miss! You may take back your ring too!” says Giglio, his eyes flashing fire at her and then, as if his eyes had been suddenly opened, he cried out, “Ha! what does this mean? Is _this_ the woman I have been in love with all my life? Have I been such a ninny as to throw away my regard upon _you_? Why—actually—yes—you are a little crooked!”