Giglio, from behind the throne, burst out into a roar of contemptuous laughter; but all the Royal party, in fact, were so flurried, that they did not hear this little outbreak. “Your R.H. is welcome in any dress,” says the King. “Glumboso, a chair for his Royal Highness.”
“Any dress his Royal Highness wears is a Court-dress,” says Princess Angelica, smiling graciously.
“Ah! but you should see my other clothes,” said the Prince. “I should have had them on, but that stupid carrier has not brought them. Who’s that laughing?”
It was Giglio laughing. “I was laughing,” he said, “because
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you said just now that you were in such a hurry to see the Princess, that you could not wait to change your dress; and now you say you come in those clothes cause you have no others.”
“And who are you?” says Prince Bulbo, very fiercely.
“My father was King of this country, and I am his only son, Prince!” replies Giglio, with equal haughtiness.
“Ha!” said the King and Glumboso, looking very flurried; but the former, collecting himself, said, “Dear Prince Bulbo, I forgot to introduce to your Royal Highness my dear nephew, his Royal Highness Prince Giglio! Know each other! Embrace each other! Giglio, give his Royal Highness your hand!” And Giglio, giving his hand,
