Just then the butterfly king and queen stretched out their magnificent wings, and rose upwards, soaring proudly into the air.
"Are they going away?" said Griselda in a disappointed tone.
"Oh no," said the cuckoo; "they are welcoming you. Hold out your hands."
Griselda held out her hands, and stood gazing up into the sky. In a minute or two the royal butterflies appeared again, slowly, majestically circling downwards, till at length they alighted on Griselda's little hands, the king on the right, the queen on the left, almost
covering her fingers with their great dazzling wings.
"You do look nice now," said the cuckoo, hopping back a few steps and looking up at Griselda approvingly; "but it's time for the feast to begin, as it won't do for us to be late."
The king and queen appeared to understand. They floated away from Griselda's hands and settled themselves, this time, at one end of a beautiful little grass plot or lawn, just below the terrace where grew the large-leaved plant. This was evidently their dining-room, for no sooner were they in their places than butterflies of every kind and colour came pouring in, in masses, from all directions. Butterflies small and butterflies large; butterflies light and butterflies dark; butterflies blue, pink, crimson, green, gold-colour—every colour, and far, far more colours than you could possibly imagine.
They all settled down, round the sides of the grassy dining-table, and in another minute a number of small white butterflies
appeared, carrying among them flower petals carefully rolled up, each containing a drop of liquid. One of these was presented to the king, and then one to the queen, who each sniffed at their petal for an instant, and then passed it on to the butterfly next them, whereupon fresh petals were handed to them, which they again passed on.
"What are they doing, cuckoo?" said Griselda; "that's not eating."