It was so that she welcomed him back.
They went to the king, her father, and told him everything. And when he knew that his daughter loved Prince Hazen, he restored his kingdom to him, and named him his own successor. And Hazen was crowned king, with much magnificence, and his father’s courtiers, who were living, were returned to his court, and that wise, wonderful old man, who had shown him the inside of his own head, was given a place of honour near the king.
But on the day of the coronation, louder than the shouts of the people, and nearer even than the voice of his queen, sounded that voice of the wise and good Self, which was but the Thought, deep within the soul of the king:—
“Hail to Hazen—King of All His Selves!”
XVI
THE WALK
“What’s the latest you ever stayed up?” Delia demanded of Mary Elizabeth and me.
“I sat up till ten o’clock once when my aunt was coming,” I boasted.
“Once I was on a train that got in at twelve o’clock,” said Mary Elizabeth, thoughtfully, “but I was asleep till the train got in. Would you call that sitting up till twelve o’clock?”
On the whole, Delia and I decided that you could not impartially call it so, and Mary Elizabeth conceded the point. Her next best experience was dated at only half past nine.