"Have you?" said Edna, not so pleased. "That is very good of you. But has it never occurred to you that I might have a voice in the matter?"

"You would _have_ to belong to me, if I wanted you badly enough," he said calmly.

"And you're not sure yet if you do want me badly enough, but, in the meantime, you would prevent anyone else from marrying me if you could--is _that_ it?"

"That's exactly it!" he said, gratified at being so thoroughly understood.

"Well, can't you see how _selfish_ that is of you?"

"It's splendid being selfish," he said, "and not really so difficult after all--when you _try_."

"And how do you suppose you could prevent me from marrying Prince Mirliflor if I thought proper to accept him?"

"Oh, that would be easy. I should only have to unchain Tutzi, and send him to kill the Prince for me. Tutzi's so intelligent and obedient that he'll do everything I tell him."

"I think you forget, Count, that it's against the law to let that dragon loose."

"I know," he said; "but I've no respect for human laws any more. I'm not going to obey anything in future, except my own instincts."

"I'm sure you don't mean that. And if you really sent that dragon to kill anybody--especially anyone who had done nothing to offend you--it would be very wicked indeed."

"Other people might think so," he said. "I shouldn't myself--and that's all that really matters. I'm going to make my own morality for the future. I want to be a Superman, like that learned man you told me about with the odd name. Aren't you glad I'm taking your advice?"

"Of course I am pleased," said Edna, "that you should be more independent and unconventional and a.s.sert yourself--which is all that Nietzsche really meant. You mustn't carry it too far, you know."

"But you said I couldn't be really great unless I felt the will and the power to inflict great suffering," he said; "and that's just what I _do_ feel."

"Yes, but you can feel the will and the power without actually inflicting suffering," said Edna instructively. "Nietzsche never intended _that_. And if you set that horrid dragon of yours at the Prince, you _would_ inflict very great suffering indeed."

"I shouldn't mind _that_," he said.

"Perhaps not--but Father and Mother would. And you would be imprisoned again, and lose your dragon as well. But I don't suppose for a moment you are serious. It would be too absurd of you to threaten violence to a Prince before I've ever seen him or made up my mind to accept him--which most likely I shall not do."

"That is true," he said, rather as if he were glad of an excuse for not taking any immediate action. "Yes, I will wait till I hear whether he is betrothed to you or not. But if I find he _is_, I shall have to clear him out of my path somehow or other."

He left Edna with the consciousness that she had been more than usually interested. The Count was certainly developing. She liked his new air of self-confident domination. It would be rather thrilling, she thought, to be wooed in this masterful way. But he had taken some pains to let her see that he was not sure yet whether she was worth the trouble of wooing! That was insulting, of course, but he might alter his opinion in time--and then she would know how to avenge herself. She wondered if Prince Mirliflor would be ardent and domineering enough to carry her by storm, and caught herself hoping he might be.

But when, shortly afterwards, she heard that he was just entering the Courtyard of the Palace with his suite, she was seized by a sudden panic. "_You_ go down and speak to him, Mother," she implored the Queen.

"I--I can't see him just yet. And make him understand that I must get to know him better before I can give him a definite answer."

Queen Selina bustled down to the State Reception Hall, where she arrived in a highly flurried condition, just after the Prince and his brilliant retinue had been ushered in.

"My dear Prince!" she began. "This is really _too_ kind! So delighted by your proposal--we _all_ are--dear Edna especially. We feel it such a compliment. My husband--his Majesty, I mean--will be in directly, but Edna has asked me to make her apologies for not coming down for a few minutes. The poor child--naturally--is feeling a little shy and overcome."

"Madam," said the Prince, whose comely face and gallant bearing had already won him the sympathies of those of the Court who were present, and particularly the Court Chamberlain's, "I count each minute a month until I have the happiness of looking upon the enchanting face that has haunted me constantly from the moment I beheld it in a vision."

"In a vision?" cried the Queen. "How very odd! But how did you know, Prince, it was our Edna?"

"I will attempt to describe my vision, Madam," he replied, "and, though my poor words cannot hope to do it justice, they will at least convince you that it was indeed the Princess whom I was permitted to see."

He described her as well as he could, though with a growing bewilderment that the lady of his dream should have a Mother who so little resembled her.

Queen Selina listened to his rhapsody with misgivings. With every allowance for the fervour of a lover who was also a Fairy Prince, even maternal partiality could not blind her to the fact that his description would be far less incorrect as applied to that Heritage girl than to the Princess Edna.

"It certainly _suggests_ dear Edna, Prince," she remarked, with a mental note that Daphne must be kept out of his way. "Except, perhaps in one or two respects; but then you can't expect to see people in dreams looking _exactly_ like themselves, _can_ you? I'll run up and bring her down to you--and, if a Mother may say so, I _don't_ think you'll be _very_ disappointed."

But it was to Daphne's chamber that she went first. "Oh, Miss Heritage,"

she began, quite pleasantly, "I'm going to ask you to do something for me. I don't at all like the effect of those jewels they've sewn on to the front of my satin-brocade. I'm sure they would look much better on my cloth-of-gold skirt. _Would_ you mind getting both skirts from my wardrobe and just making the necessary alterations for me? You had better set to work at once, as I may be requiring the cloth-of-gold very shortly. And as time is pressing, I will tell them to bring all your meals up here till the work is done. It's so important that I can't trust any of the regular ladies-in-waiting with it."

"That disposes of _her_ for at least a week," she reflected, as she went on to Princess Edna's apartments. "And everything ought to be settled long before _that_!"

When, a little later, she smilingly re-entered the Reception Hall with one arm affectionately placed round her reluctant daughter's waist, it cannot be denied that the Prince was very much disappointed indeed. The vision had not prepared him for Edna's _pince-nez_, among other matters, and altogether he felt that his G.o.dmother had exaggerated the Princess's personal attractions to a most unscrupulous degree. But this he had sufficient self-command to conceal. In fact, he rather overdid it, though it was only to himself that his courtly greeting sounded fulsome and insincere.

But if Edna detected no extravagance in his homage, she was none the more pleased with it. It made her feel awkward and self-conscious. She set him down in her own mind as "too finicking," while his good looks did not happen to be of a type that appealed to her.

Still, they got through the first interview fairly well, though both were relieved when a message came from the Court G.o.dmother that she was feeling too indisposed to leave her apartments, but would be glad to see him as soon as he was at liberty. He had himself conducted to her at once, and was not a little aggrieved, as well as surprised, by the asperity of his reception.

"Well," she said peevishly; "so you've seen your Princess, have you?

And now I suppose it is all settled between you?"

"Not yet," he said stiffly. "I believe she is reserving her answer till we are better acquainted."

"But you don't expect it will be unfavourable, do you?"

"Do _you_, G.o.dmother? I can't think you would have urged me to present myself here to be publicly humiliated."

"Oh, there's no doubt she will accept you," she said, with a sharp twinge. "You need have no apprehensions on that score. And, as you no longer consider beauty indispensable, I daresay she will be as satisfactory a helpmate as you could wish."

"I daresay," he agreed dully; and then his pent-up grievance suddenly broke out in spite of him. "With all respect to you, G.o.dmother Voldoiseau," he said, "I don't consider you've treated me fairly over this! You persuaded me that it was my duty to marry at once, and that there were better and more permanent qualities than beauty. I'm not complaining of _that_--I am quite ready to believe that the Princess Edna is as learned and admirable a lady as you gave me to understand, while she is not without good looks of a kind. But why send me a vision representing her as a miracle of loveliness? That is a deception which I can't understand, and I confess I find hard to forgive!"

How could she have foreseen that he would be foolish enough to imagine that the vision represented Edna? But the worst of it was that the Fairy could not explain her real intention just then without landing herself in fresh difficulties. So she sought refuge in prevarication.

"_I_ send you a vision!" she said. "I don't know what you're talking about, Mirliflor. A vision, indeed!"

"Didn't it come from _you_?" he asked lamely. "I--I made sure it must have."

"You had no business to make sure of anything of the kind. And if you choose to dream that your future bride is more beautiful than she happens to be, I don't see why you should put the blame on _me_! But the truth is you're longing for some excuse for getting out of this marriage. Come, Mirliflor, you know you are--and you had better say so frankly."

"It is not so, G.o.dmother," he replied; "I'm quite prepared to obey your wishes. After all, since I _must_ marry, I am not likely to find a more advantageous match than this. Besides, I couldn't possibly back out of it now--even if I desired."

"And what," asked the Fairy, "if you actually meet the Princess of your dreams?" She was ignorant of the Queen's man[oe]uvre, and so thought he could not well fail to come across Daphne that very evening.

"That is so likely!" he said bitterly. "A mere creation of my own mind--an ideal that I ought to have known would never be realised! No, G.o.dmother, since there is no hope of that, it matters little to me whom I marry!"

"Listen to me, Mirliflor," said the Fairy impatiently. "I--I'm not so bent on this alliance as I was. Never mind _why_--but I'm not.

And--and--if you would rather withdraw, it's not too late. _I_ see nothing to prevent you."

"Nothing to prevent me!" replied Mirliflor indignantly. "There is my honour! What Prince with any sense of honour at all could propose to a Princess and then inform her that he finds, after a personal interview, that he has changed his intentions? You of all people, G.o.dmother Voldoiseau, should know that we cannot _do_ these things!"