What attitude was he to adopt towards Judith now? Could he ignore what had happened? Could he hope that Judith would allow him to ignore what had happened? Or had the time come when he must reveal his real identity to Judith at last? Would she believe him? If she believed him, would she be able to forgive his deception? And, even if she forgave him, would not the shadow thrown by his Royal rank irretrievably injure his intimacy with her, with the Imps, and with Uncle Bond? All the spontaneity, the ease, and the naturalness of their relationship would be at an end. No. Whatever happened he could not risk that. Judith and Uncle Bond, were the only people he had ever known who had received him, who had accepted him, for what he was himself, the man who remained when all the adventitious trappings of Royalty had been discarded. Judith and Uncle Bond, were the only people he ever met, who treated him as an equal. As an equal? Judith, and Uncle Bond, quite rightly, often treated him as their inferior, their inferior in knowledge, in experience, in wisdom. The King leant back in his chair, and closed his eyes. He was suddenly very weary. The reaction following all that he had been through the last twenty-four hours was heavy upon him. Difficult and dangerous moments, he realized, lay immediately in front of him. And he was in no condition to meet either difficulty or danger. What he wanted now was rest-- It was some little time before Judith reappeared on the verandah. When she did reappear she brought with her a tray on which stood decanters, and glasses, and biscuits, and fruit. A picnic meal, like the one which he had enjoyed on that first memorable night twelve months ago, had become, whenever possible, a feature of the ordinary routine of the King's visits. Judith set down her tray on a wicker work table which stood beside the King. The King did not look round. He could not, he dare not, face Judith. Judith slipped behind his chair. "I am sorry, Alfred," she said. "I blame myself. It was my fault. It ought not to have happened, tonight, of all nights. You were absolutely worn out, already, weren't you? I might, I ought to, have remembered that. I want you to forget all about it, if you can. Now, how long can you stay?" A great wave of relief swept over the King. Judith was herself again. This was the old Judith. "I shall have to leave at seven o'clock in the morning, as usual. I must be back in town by eight o'clock at the latest," he said. "Then you must have a drink, and something to eat, at once," Judith, the old Judith, announced taking absolute command of him again, from that moment, as was her wont. "We'll stay out here, and listen to the nightingales, for half an hour, if you like. I am glad they are singing for you, tonight. And then, and then you will go straight to bed."