dove-cote ever seen. It was silver and green, topping a
pillar of gold. It had several compartments, all containing pure white
doves. These were engaged in bringing or carrying messages. At
intervals doves entered the open window and perched on the Masked
Lady's arms. These were placed in the cote and others were removed
from the cote and carried to the window, from which they flew away and
disappeared.

While the Masked Lady was engaged in this task it was to be noted that
there was a very sad expression in her eyes. She was turning over
certain things in her mind.

The truth is that Everychild had been married just a year, and she was
thinking how it would be necessary before long for him to be conducted
to the grim Mountain of Reality. She knew that this was a very
terrible experience, or that it would seem so just at first; and that
is why there was a sad expression in her eyes. She knew very well,
however, that the matter could not be put off very much longer.
Indeed, she had been able to detect an occasional shadow in
Everychild's eyes which proved that he was already beginning to see the
formidable Mountain of Reality in the distance. I should also explain
that the messages she was sending and receiving with the aid of the
white doves all had a bearing upon the plan she had in mind of taking
Everychild, ere long, upon the most difficult journey he was ever to
make.

Although silence reigned in the room, there was the murmur of
children's voices in the distance, occasionally rising to a joyous
shout. The children were clearly at play in some invisible court; and
when their cries were particularly joyous, Everychild and the Sleeping
Beauty glanced at each other and smiled indulgently.

At length the voices of the children became inaudible; and a moment
later Cinderella entered the room. She stood an instant, her hands on
her hips and an almost impatient expression in her eyes; and then she
approached Everychild and the Sleeping Beauty.

Everychild glanced up at her with a slightly patronizing smile. "Well,
Cinderella?" he asked.

She put her hair back rather energetically and exclaimed--"Oh, I'm
bored. That's the honest truth. Those games out there--they _do_ get
so tiresome. And Grettel is such a simpleton, really. She keeps
saying 'Think of something else for us to play, Cinderella--think of
something else.' She never thinks of anything herself. Neither does
Hansel, nor any of them."