But the prince and princess were married, and in the course of time they became king and queen and reigned long and prosperously. As for the weaver, he was made court weaver, and remained the prince’s friend all his days.
Philomène drew a deep breath. “Well, I am sure I like you ever so much better than Micheline,” said she, “though Micheline was christened and you weren’t. Oh, I wonder will you be able to tell me another story next All Souls’ Eve, you dear little White Létiche?”
“I wonder,” replied the White Létiche, thoughtfully.
“And I shall not see you till then?”
“No, we do not show ourselves. And now good-night.”
Then the White Létiche kissed her frail little hand to Philomène. “Shut your eyes,” she said softly, “you did not see me come, and you must not see me go.” And when Philomène again opened her eyes she was alone in the room.
The gale rattled at the window, and the curtains waved in the gust; the night was stormy, and the bells were silent. Philomène hurriedly took off her dressing-gown and slippers, and crept into bed.
“After all,” she thought as she dropped asleep, “I don’t think it can matter such a lot about being christened; the holy Innocents couldn’t possibly have been christened, not a single one of them, and yet I know they have got a collect all to themselves.”
CHAPTER XXII
WHICH HERALDS A CHANGE
“Daddy is calling me, Nurse. Do remember to take the price off the herald angels, and the cornflower calendar with the ten commandments on it will go for a halfpenny. I thought the commandments might make it over-weight, but they don’t. Coming, Daddy!” It was the afternoon of Christmas Eve; Philomène was busy with all sorts of cards and parcels, and later on she was to go to her godmother’s for tea and presents and a Christmas tree.