Meantime, imagine the astonishment of the inmates of the Little Castle to have a finely mounted groom, in the royal livery of the big Castle, ride up to their door, and with that indescribable condescension inherent in even the most ordinary of grooms, hand in a communication, which on being opened imparted the rather astounding information “That Her Most Gracious Majesty the Queen, having accidentally made the acquaintance of the little visitors to the East Terrace, had invited them to remain for luncheon at the Castle, and would see that they reached home safely under proper escort later in the afternoon.” The note also mentioned that similar word had been sent by special messenger to Canon Allyn.
“Gad, but they're lucky!” said Harold: and then he sent for his pony and started off for a long gallop, hoping thereby to get the better of certain absurdly jealous feelings that would not down at his bidding.
CHAPTER XIV.—MADAME LA PETITE REINE.
Oh, the wonder, for Marie-Celeste, of that tour through the private apartments! As for Albert, it is to be doubted if he quite rose to the occasion. Nothing could be more awe-inspiring or majestic than the picture of the Queen he had formed in his mind; but as they were shown from room to room and failed to encounter her, his interest began to flag a little. There were apartments more grand than these, with which he was already familiar, in the other part of the Castle; and when Ainslee hurried them past two or three rooms with the explanation that some of the royal family were in them, he felt some-the very object of their of them, and he thought Ainslee might at least have told them which one, even though they were not to be permitted to have a sight of her. But with Marie-Celeste it was very different, She stood in worshipful admiration before all the royal belongings, and when permitted to gaze into one or two of the bedrooms where royalty actually put itself to bed, behind beautiful embroidered draperies, her sense of the privilege accorded her fairly made her hold her breath. At last, when Ainslee announced that they had made the tour of all the private apartments, they were ushered into a little boudoir where a maid waited in readiness to assist them in making their toilettes for luncheon. The maid, however, standing stiff and straight, with a towel thrown over her arm and a whisk-broom in hand ready to attack them, looked so very formidable that Marie-Celeste begged Ainslee not to leave them; and Ainslee, herself appreciating the overbearing self-importance of the maid Babette, was good enough to accede to her request. And then followed such a freshening of toilette as was fairly humiliating in its thoroughness. The trying feature of the proceeding lay in the fact that they were in no way taken into the confidence of the party officiating, or told what move was impending. Side by side they were thrust on to a little low seat, and their shoes and pumps being quickly removed, were consigned to the keeping of a condescending boots, who, summoned by the touch of an electric bell, carried them away at arm's length. Marie-Celeste was never more thankful in her life than that every button was on, and that Albert's little patent leathers were just as good as new; in fact, that nothing could be urged against those little articles of foot-wear save the grievous offence of dust from the royal garden. Their faces and hands were scrubbed with wholly unnecessary vigor, and in Albert's case even ears, and then both children were thrust on to the little low seat again, and drawing a stool in front of them, Babette laid an elaborate manicure set open upon her lap, and gave her whole mind to the shaping and polishing of their nails—a process in which Albert took great interest, and which was accomplished, it must be confessed, most dexterously and with great expedition.
“You have beautiful nails, child,” said Babette, the instant she took Marie-Celeste's extended hands in hers; and this compliment from so high and experienced an authority made Marie-Celeste at once feel repaid for all the dainty care her mother had always insisted upon. At last the little toilettes were completed, even to the reformation of Albert's curls around an ivory curling stick; and with embroidered dress and well-starched kilt none the worse for the decorous experiences of the morning, they emerged from the little boudoir as “spick and span” as from the depths of the traditional bandbox. Luncheon being served, they found a most imposing butler awaiting them in the hallway, and therefore were obliged, but with evident reluctance, to turn their backs on Ainslee. When they reached the dining-room, Miss Belmore was already seated at the table, ready to receive them; but as places were set for only three, two little hearts were again doomed to disappointment, for two little minds, without any sort of consultation, had separately arrived at the conclusion that all that elaborate preparation could certainly mean nothing less than luncheon with Her Majesty in person. Otherwise it is to be doubted if they would have put up half so civilly with the uncompromising treatment they had received at Babette's hands. Their disappointment, however, could not long hold out against the odds of their immediate surroundings. The butlers—for there were two of them—could not have seemed more anxious to please or more obsequious to a veritable little prince and princess; the luncheon was delicious, and no one could possibly have been more kind and friendly than Miss Bel-more. Therefore it happened that to their own surprise they became almost at once at their ease, and Albert chattered away in such a cunning, irresistible fashion that the royal dining-room rang with the merriest peals of laughter.