[Hastily.] No, not to-night! Not till to-morrow!
Moss-Rose.
[Pouting slightly.] Mother is so mysterious about it! Why should our celebration be put off till to-morrow? Put-off things are never quite so nice!
The Queen.
It is only the dance that is postponed. You shall have your cake as usual! See; here comes the cook with it now!
[Enter the Cook bearing triumphantly aloft a huge cake decorated with candles, unlighted. He is followed respectfully by a Kitchen-boy carrying a lighted taper.]
The Cook.
With the compliments of the Cook to Her Royal Highness Princess Moss-Rose! [He sets the cake down on the table.] Now, Boy, do your duty, but don’t drop wax all over the place!
Moss-Rose.