Now the king had not seen any old lady, because this old lady had been invisible to him, though visible to Mr. Pickles’s boy. Probably because he messed and splashed the water about to that degree, and flopped the pairs of soles down in that violent manner, that, if she had not been visible to him, he would have spoilt her clothes.
Just then the old lady came trotting up. She was dressed in shot-silk of the richest quality, smelling of dried lavender.
‘King Watkins the First, I believe?’ said the old lady.
‘Watkins,’ replied the king, ‘is my name.’
‘Papa, if I am not mistaken, of the beautiful Princess Alicia?’ said the old lady.
‘And of eighteen other darlings,’ replied the king.
‘Listen. You are going to the office,’ said the old lady.
It instantly flashed upon the king that she must be a fairy, or how could she know that?
‘You are right,’ said the old lady, answering his thoughts. ‘I am the good Fairy Grandmarina. Attend! When you return home to dinner, politely invite the Princess Alicia to have some of the salmon you bought just now.’
‘It may disagree with her,’ said the king.