Poor Bulbo was taken into favour again, and allowed to go quite free now. He had new clothes given him, was called ‘My good cousin’ by His Majesty, and was treated with the greatest distinction by everybody. But it was easy to see he was very melancholy. The fact is, the sight of Betsinda, who looked perfectly lovely in an elegant new dress, set poor Bulbo frantic in love with her again. And he never thought about Angelica, now Princess Bulbo, whom he had left at home, and who, as we know, did not care much about him. The King, dancing the twenty-fifth polka with Rosalba, remarked with wonder the ring she wore; and then Rosalba told him how she had got it from Gruffanuff, who no doubt had picked it up when Angelica flung it away. ‘Yes,’ says the Fairy Blackstick, who had come to see the young people, and who had very likely certain plans regarding them. ‘That ring I gave the Queen, Giglio’s mother, who was not, saving your presence, a very wise woman; it is enchanted, and whoever wears it looks beautiful in the eyes of the world, I made poor Prince Bulbo, when he was christened, the present of a rose which made him look handsome while he had it; but he gave it to Angelica, who instantly looked beautiful again, whilst Bulbo relapsed into his natural plainness.’ ‘Rosalba needs no ring, I am sure,’ says Giglio, with a low bow. ‘She is beautiful enough, in my eyes, without any enchanted aid.’ ‘Oh, sir!’ said Rosalba. ‘Take off the ring and try,’ said the King, and resolutely drew the ring off her finger. In HIS eyes she looked just as handsome as before! The King was thinking of throwing the ring away, as it was so dangerous and made all the people so mad about Rosalba; but being a Prince of great humour, and good humour too, he cast eyes upon a poor youth who happened to be looking on very disconsolately, and said-- ‘Bulbo, my poor lad! come and try on this ring. The Princess Rosalba makes it a present to you.’ The magic properties of this ring were uncommonly strong, for no sooner had Bulbo put it on, but lo and behold, he appeared a personable, agreeable young Prince enough--with a fine complexion, fair hair, rather stout, and with bandy legs; but these were encased in such a beautiful pair of yellow morocco boots that nobody remarked them. And Bulbo’s spirits rose up almost immediately after he had looked in the glass, and he talked to their Majesties in the most lively, agreeable manner, and danced opposite the Queen with one of the prettiest maids of honour, and after looking at Her Majesty, could not help saying-- ‘How very odd! she is very pretty, but not so EXTRAORDINARILY handsome.’ ‘Oh no, by no means!’ says the Maid of Honour. ‘But what care I, dear sir,’ says the Queen, who overheard them, ‘if YOU think I am good-looking enough?’