And the New Year was still in its youth when the two young Princesses were married. And by the time that the Shah of Persia's great-great-grand-kittens were gambolling about the palace, it had become a frequent and pleasant subject for argument and debate throughout the kingdom--"Who is the most charming and lovable woman in the land, Christobel or Veronica?" ONE APRIL DAY PART I A QUEER GODMOTHER It was the First of April. The weather could not make up its mind whether to be tearful or gay. So, after changing three times, and deciding at last that it was not grown-up to cry, the sun dried up the tear-drops and beamed down on everything and everybody. "Isn't it a shame, Wilfrid, to have to prepare lessons when it's such a fine afternoon?" exclaimed Norah. She rose from the study table and looked longingly out of the French window to where the crocuses on the lawn seemed to be having the best of it. "Don't be lazy," replied her brother. "Just come and help me with this sum when I tell you." "I'm not going to do as you tell me. If you were grown up--say fifteen--it would be different; but you're only a year older than me--not even nine yet--and yet you----" "Halloa!" interrupted Wilfrid with a low whistle, as he strolled towards the window. "Look at that's legs." "Which's?" inquired Norah, gazing in the direction he pointed. "Them's." "What's?" she asked eagerly, looking around. "None! Well, you _are_ an April fool!" exclaimed Wilfrid with scornful glee as he resumed his seat; "that's the second time to-day!" "And you're a very rude boy, and you're not allowed to call me horrid names like that," said Norah with dignity; "and I won't be teased always." With a very offended look, she set to work on her copy-book. "Lend me your paint-box when we've finished our lessons, will you, Norah dear?" said Wilfrid, after a short pause. "I can't," she replied, without looking up. "Why?" "I don't know why, but I can't." "Cat in the manger! You've got nothing you want to paint, as I have." There was a longer pause, during which they both scribbled away, and scratched, and spluttered, whilst their tongues moved silently from side to side outside their parted lips, left to right, following the direction of each new line. Then Norah heaved a sigh and remarked-- "Wilfrid, isn't Cinderella lovely?" "Yes, as girls go." "Oh, how I wish we lived in those times, when there were fairy godmothers and things!" exclaimed Norah rapturously; then she added with a sigh-- "Aunt Leonora is my godmother, but she never gives me anything, and the godmothers in the fairy stories always give heaps of things." "You can't expect great fat podges like that to be like fairy godmothers, you silly!" "But she ought to like giving things. How nice it is to give presents and be thanked!" "Yes; it's nice to give presents--when they are cheap. Perhaps," continued her brother in a wise voice,--"perhaps Aunt Leonora can't afford it if she isn't rich!"