"Oh, Le Glorieux, you have made me so happy!" cried the princess, with shining eyes. "Then you think my father really is very fond of me!"
"I am sure of it, and I am sure that he will be still fonder of you when he sees you, for two reasons: one is that you look a good deal like himself, and the other that you will look at him with the very eyes of your mother."
"The marriage of my father and mother was a happy one, was it not, Le Glorieux?"
"Yes, little Cousin, that was one of the times when duty and inclination went hand in hand. That marriage was the best possible thing for both their countries, and the young couple were in love with each other from the moment when they first stood face to face, your beautiful mother being just a young slip of a girl, and your father but eighteen years of age. He was only twenty-three when she died, and he is still a young man, not so far past the first bloom of his youth."
The princess never tired of talking of her father and of her fair young mother, whose faces were known to her only from their portraits. Her brother, who was two years her senior, she often thought about, but it was her father who possessed the larger share of her affection.
It has been remarked of the Lady Clotilde that she always contrived to stir up some kind of commotion wherever she happened to be, and this journey was no exception to the general rule. The story of the emerald girdle, related by the countess the previous night, reminded the Lady Clotilde that she too owned a jewel which was said to bring good luck to her family, and the loss of which was to be followed by results too fearful to contemplate. It was a large moonstone, set as a pendant and surrounded by rubies. It had been curiously cut by an old Italian lapidary of the previous century, and represented a woman's face, which seemed to change its expression as the colors glimmering in the stone caught the light. This ornament had a great fascination for Le Glorieux. In former days when the Lady Clotilde had wished a special favor from Charles the Bold, she often managed to obtain it through Le Glorieux, who would first make his master laugh, and then while he was in this genial frame of mind the jester would present his petition in the cleverest way it could be framed. And being too penurious to reward her agent with a piece of money, the lady would say, "Le Glorieux, you may clean my jewels, for I know it must be a great pleasure to you to hold them in the sunlight and see them flash," and, while pretending to grant a favor to the jester, managed to gain one for herself.
Of all her trinkets, and she had many and valuable ones, none so charmed the fool as the moonstone pendant. Held in certain lights, the face seemed to dimple and smile upon him; in others, it was the face of a witch, or a gorgon, those dreadful beings the very sight of which would turn mortals into stone.
This ornament the Lady Clotilde was resolved to show to the countess, and descant on its history and its great value. With eager hands she unlocked the box of scented wood where the ornament was kept, and lo, the pendant was missing! Could she believe her eyes? In an agony of anxiety she tossed the jewels about, finally emptying the contents of the casket on the bed, where they flashed and glimmered like captive stars sending forth red, blue, and green lights. Frantically she picked them up one by one and shook them, but no moonstone was there!
"It is gone, it is gone!" groaned the Lady Clotilde