cried the group laughing. The little old woman paid no
attention and her soft grey eyes were fixed on the Prince, who smiled
back at her.

"His Majesty shall hear of this," said a gentleman-in-waiting.

"His Majesty will hear quite enough news in a minute or two," said the
old woman sadly, kissing the little Prince on the forehead. "Be Prince
Dolor, in memory of your mother Dolorez." Everybody started.

"Old woman, you are exceedingly ill-bred," cried a lady-in-waiting.
"Even if you did know, how dared you presume to hint that her most
gracious Majesty is called Dolorez?"

"Was called Dolorez," said the old woman with a tender solemnity.

The first gentleman, called the Gold-stick-in-waiting, raised the stick
to strike her, and all the rest stretched out their hands to seize her;
but the gray mantle melted from between their fingers; and there came a
heavy, muffled sound.

The great bell of the palace--the bell which was only heard on the
death of some of the Royal family, and for as many times as he or
she was years old--began to toll. They listened. Some one counted:
"one-two-three-four"--up to nine and twenty--just the Queen's age.

The Queen, her Majesty, was dead. In the midst of the festivities she
had passed away. When the little prince was carried back to his mother's
room, there was no mother to kiss him.

As for his godmother--the little old woman in grey, nobody knew what
became of her.

[Illustration: "I MUST KISS HIM, I AM HIS GODMOTHER." [PAGE 7.]]

CHAPTER II.

It could not be said that the Prince missed his mother; children of his
age cannot do that; but somehow, after she died everything seemed to go
wrong with him. From a beautiful baby he became pale and sickly, seeming
to have almost ceased growing, especially in his legs, which had been so
fat and strong. But after the day of his christening they withered, and
when he was nearly a year old, and his nurse tried to make him stand, he
only tumbled down.

This happened so many times that at last people began to talk about it.
A prince, and not able to stand on his legs! What a misfortune to the
country!

After a time he became stronger and his body grew, but his limbs
remained shrunken. No one talked of this to the King, for he was very
sad.

The King desired that the Prince should keep the name given him by the
little old woman in grey and so he was known as Dolor.

Once a week, according to established state custom, the Pri