No limbs were broken, and in a couple of days Princess Veronica, with her head and face veiled in white lace, was able to receive some visits of sympathy in her misfortune.
King Jorum was inconsolable, and whenever he came out of the invalid's room he would vow terrible threats of vengeance on Countess Spinx, who was trembling for her spiteful life in the cells.
On the third night after the Christmas festivities had been brought to their sudden and tragic close, Princess Christobel dreamed such a vivid dream that it awakened her. She dreamed that Little Love, who avoided her whenever he could, came smilingly up to her, kissed her hand, and raising a letter he held, showed, with a look of triumph which puzzled her, that it was addressed to her sister. She awoke, and instantly remembered that Little Love had really kissed her hand that evening, to her great surprise. She sat up in bed listening, for she fancied she heard her sister call. Becoming anxious for her comfort, she rose, and went gently in to her. It was quiet in the dimly lighted chamber. The invalid lay softly sleeping, her face all bandaged, and her glorious hair a mass of gold about the pillow. Under her hand was an open letter. Tempted by the influence of her dream, Christobel drew nearer. It was Prince Olivin's firm writing—there were only a few lines, and the moonlight shone full upon them. She could not help reading:—
"Beloved! Think not to release me. It is your sweet nature I love. You. Your beautiful mind. Nothing could ever change them!
Olivin."
Was it joy for her sister? was it some gleam of an unknown sense of peace, tenderness, and hope in her soul, that brought scalding tears to Christobel's eyes as, half blinded by them, she groped her way back to her room, where she fell on her knees and cried softly, and prayed that, now through her tears her eyes had been opened, she might learn to become different? "Beauty is not everything, then!" she repeated wonderingly to herself over and over again, finding each time fresh comfort in the thought. "How wrong I have been! Out of her disfigurement Veronica says my love for her has grown, and is worth much to her in comfort. It has brought us close together, and made us both happy. How grateful she is for every one's attention! And now the Prince still pleads for her! So! it was not her beauty that attracted him—it was not her beauty—not her beauty!" Thus she thought earnestly and long, and it brought her a strange sense of faith in herself and others. "I shall tell them all that I, too, know how truly she deserves her happiness!"
And tell them she did, and they opened their eyes and bowed respectfully, and thought more of Princess Christobel than they had ever thought before.
New Year's Eve came round with its accustomed regularity, and the inmates of Cosmopolis Castle were looking unusually grave for the occasion. Princess Veronica was to appear once more in their midst, and with the bandages removed from her poor face. It was a silent, uneasy company that had gathered together in the great ball-room, and King Jorum, engaged in a game of "Snap" with Little Love in a corner, looked ill and worn from anxiety for his favourite child.
Suddenly the card-players rose, and a thrill of excitement went through the assembly—Princess Veronica stood on the threshold in white muslin and blue. Her face showed no trace of scars; but her nose! Her nose was unrecognisable. It was no more aquiline, but tip-tilted—the sweetest little turned-up feature imaginable, and her appearance had actually gained: Princess Veronica had become the loveliest lady in the land!
After being locked in her father's arms Veronica found herself suddenly in those of her lover. King Jorum was frantic with delight. He called for Doctor Quick and made him Lord High Druggist of his Majesty's dominions, with all the appanages, endowments, privileges, and perquisites appertaining to the office. He showered honours on every physician on or near the premises. He talked of bonfires, and of honours, and tiaras all round, until he was hoarse. Then Princess Christobel appeared in white muslin and red ribbons, and there were cheers for her animated appearance and her kind expression as she gracefully returned their greeting. "Father," she said, drawing him on one side, "Veronica is asking for Countess Spinx. May I—may I tell the prisoner that now all is well she is forgiven?" King Jorum shook his head vigorously, although he was too happy to do anything but smile all the time. "She has been in the cells for ever so long," pleaded Christobel, and her father was so taken aback at the revelation of her fine eyes and sweet voice, which had never at any time struck him before, that he nodded his head violently.
That evening a stranger was bidden to the feast—no less a person than the great traveller, brother to Prince Olivin, just returned from a voyage of discovery—the bronzed and manly young Duke of Rosenleaf. "Who is that charming young girl?" he asked, as soon as he set eyes on her.