ies quarreled.
They declared in the end that they would none of them look for the
"Philosopher's ugly Stone ever any more."

So if the Princess really wanted to marry the Philosopher, that day she
lost some of her helpers. But no one knew what she wished, for she never
mentioned him. She sat at her window that looked out over the mountains,
and she gazed ever outward.

It was the night before her wedding. She had been there all day, and for
many days. It was very quiet, and the lamps were lighted. The Eldest
Lady-in-Waiting spread out the lovely robes, ready for the morrow, where
the Princess might see them; but she never moved nor spoke. As midnight
approached she leaned out and let the soft wind blow upon her face.

The hour of midnight was striking from all the belfries, when a great
clatter sounded down below in the courtyard. Horses neighed, and men ran
about. The Princess leaned more forward, and listened. Then a horseman,
whose jewels sparkled in the moonlight, looked up and kissed a hand to
her, and she kissed hers to him. It was one minute past midnight, and
the morning of her wedding-day! She dropped the curtains and turned to
greet the Favorite Lady-in-Waiting, who had come in. The Princess threw
her arms round her Lady's neck to welcome her back, she was so glad and
happy.

So it came about that the Prince of the City Over the Mountains was the
first to arrive on that eventful morning; for, though through all the
rest of the night, and up to the very hour of the wedding, noble Princes
and their retinues were received in state by the King, all of them had
to be told that they were too late, and most of them rode off again at
once. Some who had never seen the Princess, but who had been attracted
by reports of her beauty and her stateliness, waited to attend her
marriage feast, and to regret that they had not hurried themselves a
little more.

As for the Philosopher, who should have been one of the chief persons of
interest on that important occasion, no one even thought of him, unless
the Princess did. But she looked too well pleased for any one to suppose
she missed him--which was fortunate, for he was never heard of any more.

When the eventful day was past, the Mermaids and the Sea-gulls covered
the shore once again, talking it over, and the Mer-babies and the little
Sea-gulls stood around listening.

Presently the Mer-mothers said: "No more holidays. Lessons to-morrow!"
and the Mer-babies sighed, a