The King looked at her suspiciously and then looked away again, pulling at his beard.
"Of course," went on Amaril, "I don't know what your loving subjects would say about it."
"My loving subjects," said the King grimly, "have been properly brought up. They believe—they have my authority for believing—that they are suffering from a disability of the eyesight laid upon them by a wicked enchanter, under which they see Princes as—er—pigs. That, if you remember, was this fellow Hi-You's suggestion. And a very sensible one."
"But do you want Frederick as a son-in-law?"
"Well, that's the question. In his present shape he is perhaps not quite—not quite—well, how shall I put it?"
"Not quite," suggested Amaril.
"Exactly. At the same time I think that there could be no harm in the announcement of a betrothal. The marriage, of course, would not be announced until—"
"Until the enchanter had removed his spell from the eyes of the people?"
"Quite so. You have no objection to that, my dear?"
"I am His Majesty's subject," said Amaril dutifully.