But she began to weep.  “I want to go back to my father, until you have found the cow, your Majesty,” said she.

“You may go and bid your father good-by,” replied the King, peremptorily, “but then you must go immediately to the boarding school, where all the young ladies of the Court are educated.  If you are going to be a Princess, it is high time you began to prepare.  You will have to learn feather stitching, and rick-rack and Kensington stitch, and tatting, and point lace, and Japanese patchwork, and painting on china, and how to play variations on the piano, and—­everything a Princess ought to know.”

“But,” said Drusilla timidly, “suppose—­your Majesty shouldn’t—­find the cow”—­

“Oh!  I shall find the cow fast enough,” replied the King carelessly.  “Why, I shall have the whole Kingdom searched.  I can’t fail to find her.”  So the page assisted the milkmaid to the saddle, kneeling gracefully, and presenting his hand for her to place her foot in, and they galloped off toward the farmer’s cottage.

The old man was greatly astonished to see his daughter come riding home in such splendid company, and when she explained matters to him, his distress, at first, knew no bounds.  To lose both his dear daughter and his precious gold-horned cow, at one blow, seemed too much to bear.  But the King promised to provide liberally for him during his daughter’s absence, and spoke very confidently of his being able to find the cow.  He also promised that Drusilla should return to him if the cow was not found in one year’s time, and after a while the old man was pacified.

Drusilla put her arms around her father’s neck and kissed him tenderly; then the page assisted her gracefully into the saddle, and she rode, sobbing, away.

After they had ridden about an hour, they came to a large, white building.

“O dear!” said the King, “the seminary is asleep!  I was afraid of it!”

Then Drusilla saw that the building was like a great solid mass, with not a door or window visible.

“It is asleep,” explained the King.  “It is not a common house; a great professor designed it.  It goes to sleep, and you can’t see any doors or windows, and such work as it is to wake it up!  But we may as well begin.”

Then he gave a signal, and all the nobles shouted as loud as they possibly could, but the seminary still remained asleep.

“It’s asleep most of the time!” growled the King.  “They don’t want the young ladies disturbed at their feather stitching and rick-rack, by anything going on outside.  I wish I could shake it.”

Then he gave the signal again, and all the nobles shouted together, as loud as they could possibly scream.  Suddenly, doors and windows appeared all over the seminary, like so many opening eyes.

“There,” cried the King, “the seminary has woke up, and I am glad of it!”

Then he ushered Drusilla in, and introduced her to the lady principal and the young ladies, and she was at once set to making daisies in Kensington stitch, for the King was very anxious for her education to begin at once.