King Jorum was a very big man, with a very big smile, and very big woollen boots. He always wore woollen boots because, being his own Commander-in-chief, he liked to stand at ease. So he said, naturally in a very big voice—
"According to my promise it is now my pleasure to announce to my Court here assembled my decision with regard to your future Queen. After prolonged thought and study of face and character I have come to the conclusion that there is not one lady of my Court but who is quite lovely enough and charming enough to become my royal consort. Therefore to choose is difficult—so difficult that it is impossible, and, being impossible, I shall never wed again. I have spoken."
Looking neither to the right nor to the left
For a moment there was intense silence. Then deafening cheers arose, and all faces were radiant with delight, especially the faces of the ladies, who thus remained equals, no jealousy being possible. "Such tact!" said one. "How true!" cried another. But one lady had slipped away unobserved. It was Countess Spinx.
The gallant Monarch, unaccompanied, pleased at the reception given to his declaration, smilingly passed on to the antechamber, as was his wont, for a private view of the Christmas-tree before the revels commenced. King Jorum had detached one of the woollen boots embroidered with pearls and precious stones, anxiously tried it on, and was admiring the effect, when Little Love appeared and inquired if he would grant an interview to Prince Olivin, who was waiting without.
"I am engaged," was his Majesty's impatient reply.
"That, Sire, is what Prince Olivin wants to be!"
"Eh, what's that? Put on this other boot for me"—he unfastened it from the tree. "Ha! that's very smart. Very attentive of the dear Countess. Now show him in!"