"Heritage—Lady Daphne, as we call her now. She used to be my kiddie-sister's governess."
"Oh? Well, she's quite the sweetest thing I've seen—don't you think she is, yourself?"
"Not since you came!" was his gallant reply.
"It's lucky Muscombe can't hear you paying me compliments of that sort," she said. "If he did he'd want your blood. And why isn't that Lady Daphne here? I'm dying to see her again. Duchess," she added, as the elder lady, having escaped from her hostess, came towards them, "I've been asking the Prince why that charming little Heritage creature isn't here. You would like to see her, wouldn't you?"
"Certainly," said the Duchess. "Where is she?"
"We'll ask the Court Godmother," said Clarence (it had already struck him that it might give Daphne a higher opinion of him if she could see the terms he was on with a real English Marchioness). "She'll know." But the Fairy could only say that she supposed Lady Daphne was remaining in her own rooms for some reason.
"I wish you'd get her to come down, Court Godmother," said Clarence. "These ladies would like to see her."
"I will go and fetch her myself," said the Fairy, who was pleased, in spite of herself, that her unacknowledged god-daughter should be in such request.
She found Daphne engaged in sewing the great pierced jewels in an intricate pattern on the skirt of the royal robe.
"Why, how's this?" exclaimed she. "At work! When they will be sitting down to table directly! The Prince and our two noble guests have asked me to come and see what is keeping you."