And why? Ah, ladies, can you not guess why? She was thinking of Prince Udo of Araby. What did he look like? Was he dark or fair? Did his hair curl naturally or not?
Was he wondering at all what she looked like?
Wiggs had already decided that he was to fall in love with her Royal Highness and marry her.
"I think," said Wiggs, "that he'll be very tall, and have lovely blue eyes and golden hair."
This is what they were like in all the books she had ever dusted; like this were the seven Princes (now pursuing perilous adventures in distant countries) to whom the King had promised Hyacinth's hand—Prince Hanspatch of Tregong, Prince Ulric, the Duke of Highanlow, and all the rest of them. Poor Prince Ulric! In the moment of victory he was accidentally fallen upon by the giant whom he was engaged in undermining, and lost all appetite for adventure thereby. Indeed, in his latter years he was alarmed by anything larger than a goldfish, and lived a life of strictest seclusion.
"I think he'll be dark," said Hyacinth. Her own hair was corn–coloured.
Poor Prince Hanspatch of Tregong; I've just remembered about him—no, I haven't, it was the Duke of Highanlow. Poor Duke of Highanlow! A misunderstanding with a wizard having caused his head to face the wrong way round, he was so often said good–bye to at the very moment of arrival, that he gradually lost his enthusiasm for social enterprises and confined himself to his own palace, where his acrobatic dexterity in supplying himself with soup was a constant source of admiration to his servants….
However, it was Prince Udo of whom they were thinking now. The Messenger had returned from Araby; his Royal Highness must be expected on the morrow.
"I do hope he'll be comfortable in the Purple Room," said Hyacinth. "I wonder if it wouldn't have been better to have left him in the Blue Room, after all."
They had had him in the Blue Room two days ago, until Hyacinth thought that perhaps he would be more comfortable in the Purple Room, after all.
"The Purple Room has the best view," said Wiggs helpfully.
"And it gets the sun. Wiggs, don't forget to put some flowers there. And have you given him any books?"
"I gave him two," said Wiggs. "Quests for Princes, and Wild Animals at Home."
"Oh, I'm sure he'll like those. Now let's think what we shall do when he comes. He'll arrive some time in the afternoon. Naturally he will want a little refreshment."
"Would he like a picnic in the forest?" asked Wiggs.
"I don't think any one wants a picnic after a long journey."
"I love picnics."
"Yes, dear; but, you see, Prince Udo's much older than you, and I expect he's had so many picnics that he's tired of them. I suppose really I ought to receive him in the Throne Room, but that's so—so―"
"Stuffy," said Wiggs.
"That's just it. We should feel uncomfortable with each other the whole time. I think I shall receive him up here; I never feel so nervous in the open air."
"Will the Countess be here?" asked Wiggs.
"No," said the Princess coldly. "At least," she corrected herself, "she will not be invited. Good afternoon, Countess." It was like her, thought Hyacinth, to arrive at that very moment.
Belvane curtsied low.
"Good afternoon, your Royal Highness. I am here purely on a matter of business. I thought it my duty to inform your Royal Highness of the result of the Literature prize." She spoke meekly, and as one who forgave Hyacinth for her unkindness towards her.
"Certainly, Countess. I shall be glad to hear."
The Countess unrolled a parchment.
"The prize has been won," she said, "by―" she held the parchment a little closer to her eyes, "by Charlotte Patacake."
"Oh, yes. Who is she?"
"A most deserving woman, your Royal Highness. If she is the woman I'm thinking of, a most deserving person, to whom the money will be more than welcome. Her poem shows a sense of values combined with—er—breadth, and—er—distance, such as I have seldom seen equalled. The—er—technique is only excelled by the—shall I say?—tempermentality, the boldness of the colouring, by the—how shall I put it?—the firmness of the outline. In short―"
"In short," said the Princess, "you like it."
"Your Royal Highness, it is unique. But naturally you will wish to hear it for yourself. It is only some twelve hundred lines long. I will declaim it to your Royal Highness."
She held the manuscript out at the full length of her left arm, struck an attitude with the right arm, and began in her most thrilling voice:
"Yes, Countess, but another time. I am busy this afternoon. As you know, I think, the Prince Udo of Araby arrives to–morrow, and―"
Belvane's lips were still moving, and her right arm swayed up and down. "What gladsome cheers assailed the balmy air!" she murmured to herself, and her hand when up to heaven. "They come from north, from south" (she pointed in the directions mentioned), "from everywhere. No wight that stood―"
"He will be received privately up here by myself in the first place, and afterwards―"
"Could gaze upon the sight unmoved, I wot," whispered Belvane, and placed her hand upon her breast to show that anyhow it had been too much for her. "Why do they march so― I beg your Royal Highness's pardon. I was so carried away by this wonderful poem. I do beg of your Royal Highness to read it."
The Princess waved the manuscript aside.
"I am not unmindful of the claims of literature, Countess, and I shall certainly read the poem another time. Meanwhile I can, I hope, trust you to see that the prize is awarded to the rightful winner. What I am telling you now is that the Prince Udo is arriving to–morrow."
Belvane looked innocently puzzled.
"Prince Udo—Udo—would that be Prince Udo of Carroway, your Royal Highness? A tall man with three legs?"
"Prince Udo of Araby," said Hyacinth severely. "I think I have already mentioned him to your ladyship. He will make a stay of some months."
"But how delightful, your Royal Highness, to see a man again! We were all getting so dull together! We want a man to wake us up a little, don't we, Wiggs? I will go and give orders about his room at once, your Royal Highness. You will wish him to be in the Purple Room, of course?"
That settled it.
"He will be in the Blue Room," said Hyacinth decidedly.
"Certainly, your Royal Highness. Fancy, Wiggs, a man again! I will go and see about it now, if I may have your Royal Highness's leave to withdraw?"
A little mystified by Belvane's manner, Hyacinth inclined her head, and the Countess withdrew.
Chapter XI
Watercress Seems to Go With the Ears
Wiggs gave a parting pat to the tablecloth and stood looking at it with her head on one side.
"Now, then," she said, "have we got everything?"
"What about sardines?" said Woggs in her common way. (I don't know what she's doing in this scene at all, but Roger Scurvilegs insists on it.)
"I don't think a Prince would like sardines," said Wiggs.
"If I'd been on a long journey, I'd love sardines. It is a very long journey from Araby, isn't it?"
"Awful long. Why, it's taken him nearly a week. Perhaps," she added hopefully, "he's had something on the way."