Pridmore muttered something which the little boy did not hear. Matilda caught a few words. “Smacked,” “bed,” “bread and water”—familiar words all of them.
“If it’s a game,” said Matilda to the boy, “I should like to play.”
He frowned.
“I advise you to come at once,” he said, so sternly that even Pridmore was a little frightened. “His Majesty’s Palace is in this direction.” He walked away, and Matilda made a sudden jump, dragged her hand out of Pridmore’s, and ran after him. So Pridmore had to follow, still grumbling.
The Palace stood in a great green park dotted with white-flowered may-bushes. It was not at all like an English palace, St. James’s or Buckingham Palace, for instance, because it was very beautiful and very clean. When they got in they saw that the Palace was hung with green silk. The footmen had green and gold liveries, and all the courtiers’ clothes were the same colours.
Matilda and Pridmore had to wait a few moments while the King changed his sceptre and put on a clean crown, and then they were shown into the Audience Chamber. The King came to meet them.
“It is kind of you to have come so far,” he said. “Of course you’ll stay at the Palace?” He looked anxiously at Matilda.
“Are you quite comfortable, my dear?” he asked doubtfully.
Matilda was very truthful—for a girl.
“No,” she said, “my frock cuts me round the arms——”