He assisted while the young lady was being dressed. She looked very beautiful, with a long train, and feathers in her hair, and a sheaf of lilies in her arms.
"Just like a fairy princess," thought Thomas.
She went downstairs. Thomas followed her. She got into her carriage. Thomas, concealed by her train, crept in too.
"I thought Thomas got in with me," she said anxiously.
But Thomas hid himself under the seat. When they arrived at the door of the palace, she alighted, and Thomas got out after her.
The crowd was so occupied in gazing at the young lady's beauty that they never looked at Thomas at all.
This annoyed him. He was almost inclined to mew with vexation.
"Never mind," he consoled himself, "she, poor girl, has only this one chance of being looked at, but everyone will always be looking at me when I am King of England," so he refrained from mewing.
The young lady walked in through the folding doors. Thomas followed, still concealed by the folds of her train.
They went along what seemed to Thomas miles and miles of red carpet, and were finally ushered, through a great door, into a great room. Thomas disengaged himself from the young lady's train and sniffed, just to show that he was quite at home.