Two large unshed tears stood in Lady Daffany's eyes when she bade the Prince good-night.
"Do you think I have been bored the whole evening?" she asked him, softly.
"No, dearest," said the Prince, kissing her white fingers; "for you have been with me all the time."
And that, of course, was the truth, so she went away happy.
The days rolled on, and everybody began to wonder at the change in the Prince. He had always been considered the most charming Prince in the world, but now he had suddenly become one of the most unpleasant. He told people of their faults whenever they were introduced to him, and although he was generally right, they did not like it at all. He said the Royal Professor of Geography was a bore, and although no one in the kingdom could deny it, the Royal Professor of Geography naturally felt annoyed. At the state ball he told the King he could not dance a bit, and though the King's partners certainly thought so too, that did not make it any better. But when he told the Queen, in the presence of the Royal Professor of History, that her hair was turning gray under her crown, the Queen said it was quite time something was done.
"The dear fellow cannot be right in his head," she said; "he must have a doctor."
So the Royal Physician was sent for, and he came in his coach-and-four and looked at the Prince; and he coughed a good deal, and said he must certainly have a change of air.
"The Royal Physician always knows," said the Queen.
"But what is the matter with me?" asked the Prince.
"That," said the Royal Physician, coughing again, "is too deep a matter for me to go into just now. In fact—"