Previous to this they had had a grand dressing up and a fancy ball.  Crickey retained the turban and Indian table-cloth which had been her “make-up” as an “Eastern Princess.”  Freddy was a wild beast; and Lola, by dint of a long pair of military boots, seal-skin gloves, and “pretending very much,” was “Puss in Boots.”  The old nurse’s cap and spectacles were, with a peaked hat, the salient points of a “Mother Hubbard.”  But they were tired of it now, and no sound was heard except the sullen moan of the storm on the lake, and the voice of Bluebell, half-inventing and half-relating from memory.

“And so the Princess remained in the strong tower of the Giant Jealousy; for though the doors were all open, and you would suppose she had nothing to do but walk out and be free, yet if she did get a little way some invisible power always drew her back again, after which the Giant seemed more tormenting than ever.  For no one could really release her but the Prince Philander, whom she loved, and he only by remaining true to her alone (which, perhaps, was not always the case, and that was how she had strayed into Castle Jealousy), and coming himself and overthrowing the Giant, who would then be instantly dissolved into smoke, and—­”

But the ultimate fate of the bewitched Princess was never known, the story being arrested by a shout from the children as they caught sight of a tall, dark figure, half-concealed by a carved screen, and even in the dusk Bluebell discerned the expression of amused attention and half-satirical smile on his lips.

“I saw him first!” cried Lola, jumping up exultingly.  “He has been standing there ever so long, but he made me a sign not to tell.”

“I wanted to hear Miss Leigh’s story,” interposed Bertie; “but it is only the plain Princesses that Giant gets hold of, and then the fairy Princes are too busy with the beauties ever to come and rescue them!”

Bluebell was almost unnerved by the surprise of his unlooked-for appearance.  A real Prince Philander had come at her invocation; whether he was to overthrow the Giant, or strengthen his hands, remained to be proved.

She had a dim impression of presenting him to the Misses Palmer with a mortified recollection of her own absurd “make-up,” and then sat down, quite faint from the uncontrollable beating of her heart.

Perhaps it was to relieve her he was so amiably making conversation with Coey and Crickey; and exceedingly well they were getting on, she began to think, recovering rather rapidly when not the object of any particular attention.

“And you have been shut up here all day without any exercise?” she heard him say.  “That’s very bad.  Suppose we play hide-and-seek and run about all over the house;” and, clamorously supported by the children, the motion was carried, and the game commenced.

Bluebell, who was under the influence of strong feeling, thought it most sickening folly, and wished that Mrs. Rolleston would come in and stop it; but she was charitably reading to a sick fisherman close by, and, perhaps, weather bound.  Miss Prosody was taking a peaceful afternoon snooze; and if she did hear the scampering about the house, they were not unaccustomed sounds on a wet day.