So the Queen sat down at a table and signed the crackling paper "Eldrida—Queen." "I never sign it ’Eldrida R.,’" she said. "It’s ridiculous to sign it in a language that isn’t one’s own. Now I suppose you want me to sign a paper appointing you Regent?" The Lord Blackjowl looked at her from under his shaggy eyebrows. "That was included in the paper your Majesty has been graciously pleased to sign." "But I didn’t know anything about it," the Queen said hotly. "Now that’s deceiving, and I shall never be able to trust anything you give me to sign without reading it. I’ve a good mind to take it back again." "I assure your Majesty," the lord answered, with a low bow, "I merely wished to save your Majesty the trouble of twice appending your gracious signature when once would suffice." "But why didn’t you tell me what was in it?" she asked, a little mollified. "Merely because your Majesty took the words out of my mouth, if I may so say." The Queen said, "Well, and what else do you want me to do?" "There are sundry traitorous persons of the faction of the late Regent, whose existence is dangerous to the peace of the realm, and against whom I wish to issue writs of attainder if your Majesty will consent." "Yes, I thought so," the Queen said. "How many are there?" "Three thousand nine hundred and forty," the Regent said, looking at a great scroll. "Good gracious!" the Queen said. "Why, that’s five times as many as ever there were before." The Regent stroked his beard "There is a great deal of disaffection in the land," he said. "Why, the last Regent said the people were ever so contented," the Queen answered. "The last Regent has deceived your Majesty." "That’s what they all say about the last Regent. Why, it was only the other day that he told me that you were deceitful—and you _are_—and he said that you had thrown your wife into a yard full of hungry dogs, in order that you might marry me." "Your Majesty," the Regent said, flushing with heavy anger, "the late Regent was a tyrant, and all tyrants are untruthful, as your Majesty’s wisdom must tell you. My wife had the misfortune to fall into a bear-pit, and, as for my daring to raise my eyes as high as your Majesty——" "Why, you’re looking at me now," the Queen said. "However, it doesn’t matter. You can’t marry me till I’m twenty-one, and I shan’t be that for some time. By-the-by, who’s going to be my next governess?" "Your Majesty is now of an age to need no governess. I think a tutor would be more suitable—with your Majesty’s consent." "Well, who’s to be my tutor, then?" the Queen said. "I had purposed according that inestimable honour to myself," the Regent answered. "Oh, I say! You’ll never do!" the Queen remarked. "You could never darn a pair of stockings, or comb my hair. You’d be so awfully clumsy." "Your Majesty has no need to have your royal stockings darned; you can always have a new pair." "But that would be so fearfully wasteful!" the Queen said.