CHAPTER II.
It could not be said that the Prince missed his mother; children of his age cannot do that; but somehow, after she died everything seemed to go wrong with him. From a beautiful baby he became pale and sickly, seeming to have almost ceased growing, especially in his legs, which had been so fat and strong. But after the day of his christening they withered, and when he was nearly a year old, and his nurse tried to make him stand, he only tumbled down.
This happened so many times that at last people began to talk about it. A prince, and not able to stand on his legs! What a misfortune to the country!
After a time he became stronger and his body grew, but his limbs remained shrunken. No one talked of this to the King, for he was very sad.
The King desired that the Prince should keep the name given him by the little old woman in grey and so he was known as Dolor.
Once a week, according to established state custom, the Prince, dressed in his very best, was brought to the King, his father, for half an hour, but his Majesty was too melancholy to pay much attention to the child.
Only once, when the King and his brother were sitting together, with Prince Dolor playing in a corner of the room, dragging himself about with his arms, rather than his legs, it seemed to strike the father that all was not right with his son.
"How old is his Royal Highness?" said he, suddenly, to the nurse.
"Two years, three months, and five days, please your Majesty."