A fair lady, wearing a tiny crown, stepped forward and curtsied low before her monarch. It was the Crown Princess. Cedric wanted to detain her; but it wasn't etiquette, and she smiled to herself as she swept past with her maids of honour. She was followed by her dark friend, who kissed Cedric's hand. Her face was more beautiful than any he had ever beheld. In obedience to his wish that she should speak to him, the little Queen of Gossamerland smiled and said-- "Sire, I have often heard of mortals, but never saw one before. It is said that some of them never dream of coming to our country, that others often do, but they never come really, you know. Your Majesty is the very first. Will you graciously tell me how it feels?" Cedric laughed, and coughed nervously, and replied that "it felt very pleasant and comfor'ble." She turned her head as she withdrew, and whispered anxiously-- "_Do not part with the Golden Key_, as you value your throne." The words, and still more the impressive and forceful manner, of the dazzling little Queen puzzled him. He determined, nevertheless, to follow advice so fatefully given, but he couldn't help pondering over it; and his face was graver as he bowed to the lords and ladies and high-born gnomes who had the honour of introduction. Escorted by the whole of the brilliant company, King Cedric left his palace in order formally "to do some good deed"--which was a part of the ancient ceremonial. He was to open a new institution for fairies who had lost their arts and crafts and livelihoods too. When they arrived at the building it was announced that the key which was to have been presented to him was not forthcoming. Consternation, real or assumed--(_Cedric_ didn't believe in it)--followed on the strange declaration of those who were responsible for the carelessness. Amid profuse apologies, the Lord High Chamberlain begged the King that he would use the Golden Key--which, being a master key, could of course take the place of any other. Acting on the advice given him, and alive to the evident importance of retaining the key (which was also the key to his position), Cedric politely and graciously refused: at which there was considerable sensation. Arguments and persuasion were in vain, but at last he yielded to the entreaties of those needy fairies who badly wanted their institution. Himself he inserted the key, which was found to fit, as was to be expected. But when he wanted to withdraw it, it had stuck, and was immovable--the lock had been carefully arranged that it should be so. Triumph and amusement were on every face except his. "I have been betrayed," muttered Cedric, and he wondered what on Fairyland he should do next. There was silence--a breathless interval--during which the boy never relaxed hold on his treasured possession.