For a moment there was intense silence. Then deafening cheers arose, and all faces were radiant with delight, especially the faces of the ladies, who thus remained equals, no jealousy being possible. "Such tact!" said one. "How true!" cried another. But one lady had slipped away unobserved. It was Countess Spinx. The gallant Monarch, unaccompanied, pleased at the reception given to his declaration, smilingly passed on to the antechamber, as was his wont, for a private view of the Christmas-tree before the revels commenced. King Jorum had detached one of the woollen boots embroidered with pearls and precious stones, anxiously tried it on, and was admiring the effect, when Little Love appeared and inquired if he would grant an interview to Prince Olivin, who was waiting without. "I am engaged," was his Majesty's impatient reply. "That, Sire, is what Prince Olivin wants to be!" "Eh, what's that? Put on this other boot for me"--he unfastened it from the tree. "Ha! that's very smart. Very attentive of the dear Countess. Now show him in!" The two young Princesses had not made their appearance for the proclamation. They, as well as Little Love, had been in the King's confidence, and they did not intend to be present. However, as the hour of the revels was fast approaching, Veronica feared that her sister would be late as usual, so she took her last glance at herself in the mirror, tightened the blue ribbon that was threaded through her fair hair, tucked a pale rose in the blue sash of her high-waisted, white muslin frock, and flitted off happily to Christobel's room. "Come in!" said a not very amiable voice in response to the light tap. "Oh, it's you, is it?" "Can I help you, as you have no maid?" Princess Christobel's room was by no means tidy. "I don't want any help," she replied ungraciously, moving some of the garments that littered the bed, "but you can sit down there, if you like, next to the 'Shah of Persia.'" Veronica took the place indicated next to the sweetest little blue Persian kitten that was curled up fast asleep on the coverlet. "I like your new frock, Veronica," continued Christobel, surveying her sister as she pinned up her black hair without troubling even to do it before a glass; "but you look pretty in anything. If you didn't, no one would trouble to pet you. No one ever fusses over me." "Papa does, for one." "Only because he thinks it's his duty." "I would if you'd let me." "Oh yes. You'd be very pleased if I'd let you hang about me--an ugly girl can't show to much advantage next to a pretty one. I know your little game." "Oh, Christobel! How can you say such unkind, unjust things?" protested poor Veronica with a sob. "If you want to cry," said Christobel crossly, "you shouldn't do so until you go to sleep. You cry so easily; and then your bright eyes look heavy, and your aquiline nose gets red, and the whole Castle gets upset about them. Who cares if _my_ eyes are red?"