earnestly, beseechingly
into her face, his own keen sharp eyes gradually growing larger and
deeper in expression, till they assumed the pathetic, wistful look of
appeal one often sees in those of a noble dog.

"Ah, Princess!" he murmured.

And Ice-Heart stopped laughing. She pressed her hand to her side.

"Father! mother!" she cried, "help me! help me! Am I dying? What has
happened to me?" And, with a strange, long drawn sigh she sank fainting
to the ground.

There was great excitement in the palace, hurrying to and fro, fetching
of doctors, and much alarm. But when the Princess had been carried
indoors and laid on a couch, she soon revived. And who can describe the
feelings of the King and Queen when she turned to them with a smile such
as they had never seen on her face before.

"Dearest father, dearest mother," she said, "how I love you! Those
strange warm drops that filled my eyes seem to have brought new life to
me," and as the Queen passed her arm round the maiden she felt no chill
of cold such as used to thrill her with misery every time she embraced
her child.

"Sweet-Heart! my own Sweet-Heart!" she whispered.

And the Princess whispered back, "Yes, call me by that name always."

All was rejoicing when the wonderful news of the miraculous cure spread
through the palace and the city. But still the parents' hearts were
sore, for was not the King's word pledged that his daughter should marry
him who had effected this happy change? And this was no other than
Jocko, the monkey!

The Prince had disappeared at the moment that Ice-Heart fainted, and now
with his retinue he was encamped outside the walls. All sorts of ideas
occurred to the King.

"I cannot break my word," he said, "but we might try to persuade the
little monster to release me from it."

But the Princess would not hear of this.

"No," she said. "I owe him too deep a debt of gratitude to think of such
a thing. And in his eyes I read more than I can put in words. No, dear
father! you must summon him at once to be presented to our people as my
affianced husband."

So again the cortege of Prince Jocko made its way to the palace, and
again the litter, with its closely drawn curtains, drew up at the marble
steps. And Sweet-Heart stood, pale, but calm and smiling, to welcome her
ridiculous betrothed.

But who is this that quickly mounts the stairs with firm and manly
tread? Sweet-Heart nearly swooned again.

"Jocko?" she murmured. "Where is