"Not at all," said the King, trying to remember what he had said. He held out his hand. "Well, Countess, I have much to do."
"I, too, your Majesty."
She made him a deep curtsey and, clasping tightly the precious diary, withdrew.
The King, who still seemed worried about something, returned to his table and took up his pen. Here Hyacinth discovered him ten minutes later. His table was covered with scraps of paper and, her eyes lighting casually upon one of them, she read these remarkable words:
"In such a land I should be a most contented subject."
She looked at some of the others. They were even shorter:
"That, dear Countess, would be my——"
"A country in which even a King——"
"Lucky country!"
The last was crossed out and "Bad" written against it.