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In Brief Authority

<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> <h3>UNWELCOME ANNOUNCEMENTS</h3> Princess Edna took the earliest opportunity of acting on the Fairy Vogelflug's suggestion. At the conclusion of the banquet that evening, she requested King Sidney to order the silver trumpets to be flourished, and when this had been done and an expectant hush fell upon the assembly, she rose. After regarding the Prince, who sat on her right, with a graciousness which, enhanced as it was by her pince-nez, struck terror into his very soul, she began in a high, clear tone: "You all know, I think," she said, "that his Royal Highness Prince Mirliflor of Clairdelune has done me the great honour of asking me to be his wife, and that I have promised him my answer this evening. That answer I am now about to give. Prince Mirliflor, you have impressed me so favourably that, although I had previously no thought of marrying, I have decided to accept you." At this the whole Court broke out in frantic and rapturous applause, for they had been most anxious for the Prince to succeed in his project—if only for the reason that it would entail the removal of Princess "Four-eyes" to Clairdelune. The King exclaimed, "Quite right! Sensible girl!" and Queen Selina assured the Prince that he had won a treasure. Clarence, who had taken a liking to his new brother-in-law, which was not entirely reciprocated, rose and clapped him heartily on the back, while the old Court Chamberlain could scarcely contain his pride and joy. Edna held up her hand for silence. "Wait, please!" she said; "I haven't finished. I said I would accept you, Prince Mirliflor, and so I will—on condition that you are able to give the correct answer to a question I am about to ask you." There was a murmur of disappointment at this, though it was generally recognised that the Princess's action was quite en règle. The Prince, feeling that it was at least a reprieve, begged her to put the question without keeping him in any further suspense. "My question is this," said Edna: "Why did the sausage roll?" "Hang it all, Edna!" cried Clarence, "you're not going to chuck him unless he can guess a rotten riddle like that!" "Of course not!" said her anxious Mother. "Don't be alarmed, dear Prince Mirliflor. She doesn't mean it seriously. It—it's a little joke, that's all!" "It's not a joke, Mother," said Edna; "I'm perfectly serious. I am sure Prince Mirliflor is so clever that he will have no difficulty in guessing the riddle. If he can't—well, I shall be very sorry, but—I shall not be able to marry him." "Alas, Princess!" said Mirliflor, "but it passes my poor wit to discover why the sausage rolled." "Will your Majesties pardon me," struck in the Court Chamberlain, "if I humbly offer a suggestion. Such a problem as her Royal Highness has propounded cannot be solved in a moment. It is only just to his Royal Highness Prince Mirliflor that he should be given a night to reflect before delivering his answer." "Certainly," said the King; "you must see that yourself, Edna. Give him a chance—every chance!" "I have no objection, Father," said Edna. "The Prince shall have till to-morrow morning to think it over—but I can give him no longer." "It's an infernal shame, Mirliflor!" said Clarence. "I haven't an idea why the bally sausage rolled, or I'd tell you, dear old chap!" "I am sure you would, my dear Prince Clarence!" Mirliflor assured him; "but, believe me, I am none the less grateful to you." Queen Selina did all she could think of to persuade her daughter to alter her decision, and, when this failed, to extract the answer to the momentous conundrum, which Edna knew her mother too well to confide to her, so that at length she was obliged to take up her bedroom taper and retreat, with a Parthian prediction that such folly would be bitterly repented in the future. Edna's next visitor was the Court Godmother, on whose entrance she at once informed her waiting-women that she would not require their further services that night. "Well, Godmother," she began, as soon as they were alone together, "I did as you advised, you see. And—you don't think Prince Mirliflor can possibly find out the answer, do you?" "My good girl," said the Fairy, "I'd defy the Astrologer Royal himself to find it out, if he consulted all the stars and all his mystic books into the bargain! How the dickens did you come to invent such a riddle as that?" "I didn't invent it," said Edna; "I heard it a long time ago—at the Theatre—in some silly play. I've forgotten what the play was about—but I remembered the riddle." "Are you sure you remember the answer? I have heard of sausages talking occasionally, and I daresay they can roll, but I fail to see what intelligible reason any sausage could give for doing it." "It's a catch," explained Edna. "It's like this. Why did the sausage roll? Because it saw the jam-turnover. Now do you see?" "I can't say I do, my dear. It seems senseless to me. But that's all the better—the more idiotic it is, the less chance of its being guessed. Yes, on the whole, I don't think you could have thought of a better one." Shortly afterwards Prince Mirliflor, just as he was about to extinguish the flambeaux and turn into bed, was startled to see his door opening by some mysterious means. He was more startled still when the figure of the old Court Chamberlain suddenly materialised in the centre of the room. "Your Royal Highness will forgive my intrusion," said the Baron, "when I explain the object of this visit. My reason for suggesting that the Princess should grant you a night to answer her question was that I felt convinced that she would be unable to refrain from telling it to some person—her mother, most probably. So I resolved by means of this" (and here he exhibited a small skull-cap of purple silk) "to penetrate unseen to the Princess's apartments and overhear her conversation. To my disappointment, she would reveal nothing to Her Majesty, but by-and-by the Court Godmother paid the Princess a visit, in the course of which I, remaining, of course, invisible, succeeded in learning the secret on which your Royal Highness's happiness and the hopes of all Märchenland depend. The answer, it seems—though I must admit I can make little of it myself—is——" "Stop, Baron!" interrupted Prince Mirliflor, "I refuse—do you hear?—I refuse to take advantage of any information obtained in such a disreputable manner—I insist on your leaving this room at once without another word!" "But, sire, hear me! This is not a case for being over-scrupulous. In love, as in war, all is fair. And the answer is—'Because——'" "Will you get out?" cried the Prince, stopping both his ears. "I won't hear you. I can't, as you can see. And if you don't clear out at once, I'll strike this gong for the guard!" The Baron, seeing that he could do no more, hastily put on his cap again and disappeared. "What a pity," he thought, "that such a fine young Prince should be so priggish when his own interests are concerned!" But although Mirliflor's code of honour was undoubtedly high, it is quite possible that he might not have stopped his ears quite so hermetically if Princess Edna had only borne a closer resemblance to his vision of her. As it was, even if the Baron had forced him to hear the answer, it would have made no difference, since he had not the least intention of profiting by it, and so he slept soundly, with no apprehensions concerning what the morrow might bring him. Shortly after breakfast the next day the Court filled the body of the Hall of Audience, on the dais of which the King and Queen presently appeared and took their thrones, Prince Mirliflor and the members of the Royal Family being accommodated with lower seats on the same platform. "Now, Prince Mirliflor," remarked Edna sweetly, "you have been given a night to consider the answer to my question. I hope you have found it?" The Prince was about to confess his utter inability to do so, when, to his extreme annoyance, he found that the Baron, who had stationed himself behind his chair, was whispering discreetly into his ear. "Will you be kind enough to leave me alone, Baron?" he said in a savage undertone. "I've told you already that I don't desire any interference in my affairs. Oblige me by holding your tongue!" "Certainly, your Royal Highness," said the Baron obsequiously, "your wishes shall be obeyed.... His Royal Highness, Madam," he said aloud, "begs me to make his excuses. He feels too much agitated to speak for himself, but instructs me to say that he believes the reason why the sausage rolled was because it had seen the jam pasty. And," he added confidently, "your Royal Highness will, I am sure, be gracious enough to admit that Prince Mirliflor has answered her question with absolute correctness." Mirliflor's attempts to deny that he had offered any solution whatever were unheard in the tumult of acclamation which followed the Court Chamberlain's announcement. "He hasn't given the correct answer!" declared Edna, as soon as silence could be obtained. "He ought to have said 'the jam turnover'—not the 'jam pasty'!" "Oh, come, my dear!" said her father. "That's splitting hairs, you know. He was near enough. What's the difference?" "None that I can see," pronounced the Queen. "Both are pastry, and both contain jam. Yes, Prince Mirliflor, you have won the dear child, as I'm sure you richly deserved to!" "How can you say that, Mother?" cried Edna, scarlet with vexation. "When his answer utterly missed the point? And, anyhow, it was given by proxy, so it doesn't count!" "H'm—ha!" said King Sydney, "that's rather a ticklish question! What do you think, my love?" and he consulted the Queen in undertones for a minute or two. "Well," he announced presently, "her Majesty and myself both consider that the Prince's answer should be adjudged correct, and that its having been given by proxy is—ah—no disqualification whatever. Still, to avoid all appearance of favouritism, we propose to refer the case to the final decision of our Council." "I say!" protested Clarence in a horrified whisper, "you're never going to leave it to those old pumps?" "It's quite safe, my boy," said the King. "They won't give it against him!" So, after the Councillors had filed out to deliberate, Clarence devoted himself to keeping up Mirliflor's spirits, though the latter could not be induced to see that he had no cause for uneasiness. But King Sidney had not been mistaken in his prediction; after a short absence the Councillors filed in again and reported that they were unanimously of opinion that Prince Mirliflor had succeeded. "There, my dear," said the King to the Princess Royal, as soon as the shouts of joy had quieted down, "you've got the Council's decision. Give the Prince your hand, and let's have no more bother about it." "I won't!" declared Edna, losing all self-control in her rage and disappointment. "He hasn't won me fairly. I've been tricked into this, and it's all the Court Godmother's doing!" No accusation could well be more unjust, but it was difficult for the Fairy to disprove it without declaring that she had done her utmost to hinder the match—and this would have been impolitic just then. "My doing, forsooth!" she repeated. "If you really believe that, you were never more mistaken in your life!" "Oh no, I'm not mistaken!" said Edna. "It was you who suggested my asking the riddles—and you were the only person I told the answer. If you did not tell him, I should like to know who did!" "May I remind you, Princess," said Mirliflor, "that the answer was not made by me?" "You let the Baron answer for you, which is just as bad!" retorted Edna. "And I absolutely refuse to be trapped and cheated into marrying anybody!" "My conscience at least is clear," he said. "But I am to understand that you decline to marry me, Princess—is that so?" "Certainly I do. Nothing would induce me to accept you after this! I don't care what Father and Mother or the Council or anyone says! When—if—I marry I intend to choose for myself. And you are about the last person, Prince Mirliflor, I should ever dream of choosing!" "I am desolated to hear it, Princess," he replied, with admirable patience and resignation. "But since I have the misfortune to be so obnoxious to you, the only service I can render you now is to relieve you of my presence as soon as possible." Queen Selina implored him to stay to lunch, and even held out hopes that Edna might relent in time—but all her entreaties were in vain. To her infinite chagrin and the general lamentation, he insisted on leaving the Palace within an hour. He said no farewell to his Godmother, who for her part was glad to escape a private interview with him, but he took his leave of his host and hostess with all due outward courtesy, though inwardly fuming with rage and impatience to quit a place where he considered he had been so wantonly insulted. Count von Rubenfresser must have got wind from some quarter of the Prince's discomfiture, for on the very next day he turned up at the Palace about lunch time, according to his previous habit, and Queen Selina, though far from delighted at his appearance, could hardly avoid inviting him to remain. His manner at table was considerably more assured, and his appetite, if anything, heartier than usual, but even so he seemed, to all but Princess Edna, an indifferent substitute for the Prince whose departure they were still mourning. Edna, however, seemed to make a point of treating him with marked favour, so much so that, when lunch was over and the Royal Family had removed to the Terrace, it was rather with disgust than surprise that they discovered that the Princess Royal and the Count had stolen off together to a secluded part of the gardens. Whether amour propre had incited her to make a special effort to overcome his hesitation, or absence and jealousy had quickened his somewhat lagging ardour, none could say with any certainty, but when they eventually re-appeared, Queen Selina observed with positive horror that they were walking hand-in-hand. "It's quite all right, Mother," said Edna, as they came within speaking distance; "Ruprecht and I are engaged." "Engaged!" spluttered King Sidney. "You've got to get your Mother's consent for that, you know. And we couldn't hear of it. Not for a moment! Eh, my love?" "Of course not!" said the Queen. "Entirely out of the question!" "We expected this," remarked Edna calmly. "But no amount of opposition will make the slightest difference to us—will it, Ruprecht?" "Not the slightest," he replied. "At least—to ME." "But think, my dear, only think!" the distressed Queen entreated Edna. "After you've just made us all so unpopular by refusing a Prince, you simply can't go and engage yourself to some one whose position is so far beneath your own!" "Ruprecht is above me in every sense," said Edna; "and because I'm a Princess by no wish of mine is no reason why I should sacrifice myself for reasons of state. I utterly and entirely deny that any parents, no matter what their position in life, have the right nowadays to dictate to their children whom they should marry or not marry. Of course, I would rather you were sensible enough to recognise our engagement, but if you aren't, I shall simply marry Ruprecht just the same." Queen Selina reflected. If she refused consent, it would only end in a still worse situation. And, after all, she would have been proud enough in her Gablehurst days to be able to announce her daughter's engagement to a real Count with a fine and ancient castle. "Well," she said, "if it's understood that there must be no thought of marriage for at least a year——" "Oh, Ruprecht will wait a year for me—won't you, Ruprecht? But the engagement must be proclaimed at once—we insist on that. And now you may kiss Mother, Ruprecht, and tell her that you already look on yourself as her son." The Count stooped to give his prospective Mother-in-law an amateurish embrace, while Ruby fled, fearing that her own turn would come next. "Good Lord, Edna!" said Clarence, drawing her aside, "have you gone dotty or what? To go and chuck a real good sort like Mirliflor, and then take this overgrown bounder—it beats me what you can see in the beggar!" "I see a man, Clarence, whom I feel I can really look up to." "You'll have the devil of a way to look up, if he goes on growing much longer. He's shot up lately like a bally beanstalk!" "You are jealous because he makes you feel so small. I glory in his being so big. He is just my idea of a superman!" "Strike out 'man' and substitute 'swine'!" said Clarence, "and I'm with you!" "There's no need to descend to vulgarity, Clarence. And it seems a pity you should be so prejudiced against him when he is only anxious to prove the affection he feels for you!" "Oh, is he? Well, if he comes pawing me about, he'll find out what my sentiments are!" "I should advise you to be civil to him—for your own sake," said Edna coldly, "because he's rather a powerful person." Queen Selina had no option but to inform the Court of the engagement without delay, and the general consternation it caused could only find expression in chilling silence. To the Court Godmother she tried to present the matter as favourably as possible. "I don't pretend," she said, "that it is quite all we could desire from a mere worldly point of view. But in a case of true love on both sides such as this, his Majesty and I both feel that it would not be right to interfere. And you know what dear Edna can be when she's once set her mind on anything. Besides," she concluded, "we've insisted on their being engaged for a year—a good deal may happen before then." "It may," agreed the Fairy; "and I shall be very much surprised if it doesn't. But, so far as I am concerned, Princess Edna may bestow her hand as she pleases. I shall never go out of my way to find her a suitor again, I can assure you!" It had already occurred to her that the Royal Family might very shortly find Märchenland too hot to hold them, which would relieve her of all responsibility for them. So she saw no reason for interfering with any of their proceedings. Ruby rushed excitedly up to Daphne's chamber, where she had been hurting her pretty fingers by laboriously unpicking the innumerable jewels from one of the Queen's robes and sewing them on to another. "Oh, Miss Heritage, dear," she began, "it's such ages since I've seen you, and I've such lots to tell you about. Just fancy! Edna's engaged!... No, not Prince Mirliflor! She sent him away the day before yesterday. I can't think why—when he was so perfectly ripping. It's Count Rubenfresser." "Oh, Ruby!" cried Daphne in dismay. "Not to him! How can she?" "I don't know—but she is. Mums doesn't like it, of course, but she's had to give in, and they'll be married in a year. Isn't it awful? There's only one advantage about it that I can see—Tützi will be one of the family now.... Oh, and you needn't go on sewing any more. Mummy said after lunch that she'd forgotten to tell you she won't want the skirt altered after all, and that you might come down again as usual now." So Daphne made her re-appearance that evening, and was welcomed by the Court with as much effusion as if they had not seen her for weeks. The Count was there, his towering form more splendidly apparelled, as became his new rôle of an accepted suitor, and she soon learnt that she was by no means alone in loathing the thought of the engagement. Princess Edna was in such high good humour that she not only deigned to single out Daphne by her notice, but actually offered to present her to her fiancé—an honour from which Daphne had the courage to beg that she might be excused. "I see how it is, Miss Heritage," said Edna, with a frown, "You can't understand my rejecting a Prince and preferring some one of so far inferior a rank. I really should not have thought you would be quite so snobbish as that!" "It isn't that, Princess Edna," said Daphne desperately. "It's because—I'm sure—I can't explain why, but I am sure he's bad—really bad!" "If you mean by that—that he is not a pattern of virtue like Prince Mirliflor," said Edna, "he is none the worse for it, in my eyes!" "I meant more—much more than that. But I ought not to have said anything." "Oh, pray go on. In fact, I insist on it." "Well, then, Princess Edna," said Daphne undauntedly, "not only I, but almost everybody at Court, think that a marriage with Count von Rubenfresser would be a horrible mistake." "So you have joined the league against him, have you, Miss Heritage?" said Edna. "But, of course, you would condemn anyone who failed to conform to your prim, governessy little notions of right and wrong. I might have known as much! I am only sorry I should have gone out of my way to offer you a privilege you are so incapable of appreciating. You may now retire." Daphne retreated accordingly. She knew very well that she would have been wiser in her own interests to hold her tongue, and she had certainly done no good by speaking. But for no earthly inducement would she have allowed herself to be presented to that detestable Count. She had been almost forced to speak plainly, if only in the faint hope of opening Edna's eyes to a sense of what she was doing. And though she had failed, she did not in the least regret having spoken. If the other ladies-in-waiting had known of her protest she would have been more idolised by them than ever, but a lingering sense of loyalty kept her from saying anything that might increase their disaffection for "Princess Four-Eyes." Perhaps the person in the Royal Household who felt the engagement most acutely was the old Court Chamberlain. Queen Selina, returning from a drive the next day, discovered him weeping, or rather absolutely blubbering, in a darker corner of one of the passages. "I can't help it, your Majesty," he said, almost inarticulate with emotion. "That the Princess should have scorned such a consort as Prince Mirliflor for one whose parentage—it's too much to bear! I think my old heart would break if I had not once more put a hoop around it. If your Majesty only knew how your subjects detest such an alliance as this!" "I don't see what it has to do with them, Baron," said the Queen. "But they have certainly been less respectful lately. I'm afraid we shall have to take a sack of gold out again on our next drive. I was most alarmed this afternoon by a rude person throwing something into the coach which I quite thought at first was a bomb. However, it turned out to be only a particularly fine turnip, though it very narrowly missed his Majesty's nose. Of course, as the Marshal assures us, it may have been intended merely as a humble sort of offering, but I should like to feel surer about it than I do. And—strictly between ourselves, Baron—I should be only too thankful if this engagement was broken off. But what can I do? The Princess won't listen to me!" "Perchance," said the Baron, "she would allow herself to be influenced by the noble ladies whom your Majesty spoke of." "The Duchess of Gleneagles and the Marchioness of Muscombe? Ah, my dear Baron, she might, if they were only here! I know they would do their best to persuade her. But what is the use of thinking of that, when they are both so far away?" "And doubtless your Majesty is in ignorance of their very whereabouts." "Oh, they would be in London just now," said the Queen, not displeased to exhibit her knowledge. "The dear Duchess travelled down from the North sometime ago to her town residence in Stratford Place—had her tiara stolen on the journey, Baron—and came to tell me about it at once, poor soul! And—yes, the Muscombes must be back in that cosy little flat of theirs in Mount Street by this time. They always spend Easter in London, you know." "In London!" sighed the Baron. "That is truly a far cry from our Märchenland! But your Majesty can see that, in my present spirits, I should make but a sorry figure at Court. Have I your leave to absent myself for a brief period!" "By all means—as long as you like," said the Queen, who rightly considered that a Court Chamberlain in constant floods of tears would do little to relieve the prevailing depression. And so the Baron did not appear that evening, which might have excited some remark if anyone had happened to notice his absence. On the following morning Queen Selina paid a surprise visit to the Tapestry Chamber, where her ladies were more or less busy in embroidering "chair-backs" (she was too much in the movement not to know that the term "antimacassars" was a solecism). It was an industry she had lately invented for them, and they held it in healthy abhorrence. She had not had at all a good night, and was consequently inclined to be aggressive. "Good morning, girls," she began, "I fancy I heard, just before I came in, one of you mentioning a person of the name of 'Old Mother Schwellenposch.' The speaker, if I'm not mistaken, was Baroness Bauerngrosstochterheimer." "It was, your Majesty," admitted the Baroness, rising and curtseying. "And who, may I ask, is this Mother—whatever-her-name is? Some vulgar acquaintance of yours, I presume?" "If your Majesty is so pleased to describe her, it is not for me to protest," was the Baroness's demure reply, followed by suppressed but quite audible giggles from her companions. "Why you should all snigger in that excessively unladylike way is best known to yourselves," said Queen Selina. "But I can make allowances for you, considering who your ancestresses were! It's true I had hoped when I first came here that, if I could not expect quite the sort of society I had been accustomed to, I should at least have people about me of ordinary refinement! As it is, I often wonder what my dear friends the Duchess of Gleneagles and the Marchioness of Muscombe would say if they knew the class of persons I have to associate with. I can fancy how they would pity me. When one has enjoyed the privilege of intimacy with really great ladies like them, one is all the more apt to notice the difference.... Is that you, Baron? Returned so soon? But you shouldn't come bursting in like this without asking for an audience. That is quite against my rules!" "Your Majesty will, I feel sure, pardon the intrusion when you hear my tidings," said the Baron. "I have the honour to inform your Majesty that your high-born friends, the Grand Duchess of Gleneagles and the Margravine of Muscombe, are now in the Palace!" "The—the Duchess? And the Marchioness?" cried the Queen. "Nonsense, Baron! It must be some silly mistake of yours. How could they possibly get here?" "In the stork-car, your Majesty," he explained. "I brought them myself. As they are still sunk in sleep, I have had them laid on couches in one of the vestibules, and instructed the Lady Daphne to remain in attendance." "Good gracious!" said Queen Selina faintly. She was painfully conscious that her face must be expressing dismay rather than delight, and that her ladies-in-waiting had not failed to notice it. "What a—what a delightful surprise! And Lady Daphne with them, did you say? I—I'll go to them at once!" If the poor Court Chamberlain had expected any gratitude from his Sovereign when they got outside, he received none. She did not speak to him at all—possibly because she could not trust herself, and she hurried towards the great Entrance Hall at a pace which left him hopelessly in the rear. As she went she vainly endeavoured to think of any possible excuse or apology that she could offer her distinguished visitors, but her chief anxiety was that she might not arrive until after they had awaked, and Miss Heritage had anticipated her explanations. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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