"This is preposterous!" said the duck in a rage.
My niece giggled.
"It is monstrous!" said the duck, walking bow-legged around the table.
I joined in the mirth. "Star-gazer," indeed!
"It is high treason!" insisted the royal fowl.
My niece rose from the table. The duck looked at her in perplexity. Then he said:
"I give in. Please fix me straight again."
She clapped her hands, and he regained his shape.
"Now," said he uneasily, "I am a man—of my word. Send for my son."
Several admirals, dukes, and footmen started for the door, but the seneschal had a good lead, and soon returned, ushering in a young man whose physical perfections were not noticed only because of his graceful bearing and exquisite air of high breeding and royal intelligence. When I saw him I had a curious remembrance of having seen him before. But it was a mistake. I was thinking of a certain beautiful miniature of myself, which my father had given me on my twenty-first birthday.
"Come in," said the King pleasantly. "This, my son, is your promised bride. She is the niece of this old gentleman. He is a star-gazer. Bow to your uncle-in-law. The wedding will take place to-morrow. Good evening, young people. Good evening, star-gazer."
He retired through the cloth-of-gold portière, and the prince, by his courtly bearing, soon put us all at our ease. At first his manner, while with my niece, was just a trifle constrained; but at 12.45 a. m. when I went to bed, they had eaten twelve philopenas and had ordered the yawning butler to bring more almonds.
Next morning a grand procession set forth for the cathedral.
