‘Let’s,’ said the Queen, ‘but we can’t bring the Princess to life again. I do wish we could,’ and she cried a little through her bandages into her egg, for it was breakfast time.
‘Do you mean that,’ said a little sharp voice, though there was no one to be seen in the room. The King and Queen clung to each other in terror, upsetting the urn over the toast-rack.
‘Do you mean it?’ said the voice again; ‘answer, yes or no.’
‘Yes,’ said the Queen, ‘I don’t know who [p117 you are, but, yes, yes, yes. I can’t think how we could have been so wicked.’
‘Nor I,’ said the King.
‘Then send for the French governess,’ said the voice.
‘Ring the bell, dear,’ said the Queen. ‘I’m sure what it says is right. It is the voice of conscience. I’ve often heard of it, but I never heard it before.’
The King pulled the richly-jewelled bell-rope and ten magnificent green and gold footmen appeared.
‘Please ask Mademoiselle to step this way,’ said the Queen.
The ten magnificent green and gold footmen found the governess beside the marble basin feeding the gold-fish, and, bowing their ten green backs, they gave the Queen’s message. The governess who, every one agreed, was always most obliging, went at once to the pink satin breakfast-room where the King and Queen were sitting, almost unrecognisable in their bandages.