e palace of the King; white and broad and
flat-roofed.

Passing a grove of trees, the lady left the roadway and stepped into the
smooth grass of a lawn, and sped across it directly towards the terraces
before the palace of the King. She mounted the gentle slope, her five
friends following her; and the vast throng, filling the park to the
gates, came on behind. She reached the first terrace; her hand was still
on her heart. A dog barked.

Windows in the palace front began to go up, and faces to appear. From an
archway sprang a pack of beautiful tall white curly-haired dogs, and
rushed on the lady, barking. Freddie made as if to protect her, but she
waved him back with a smile. The dogs sprang up as if to devour her, but
they did no harm; they barked as if their throats would burst; they
leaped and gambolled about her; they thrust their noses into her hand;
they almost spoke; and in the midst of it there appeared upon the wide
steps before the palace door a noble-looking man, and beside him three
children.

At sight of this man and the children, the lady covered her eyes for an
instant with her hands, and gave a sob; but she quickly looked up, and
sped on more swiftly than before, her hands hanging beside her, and a
bright misty look in her eyes.

The man upon the palace steps shaded his eyes with his hands, and gazed
upon her and the multitude spread out across the park behind her. One of
the children, a tiny boy, he took by the hand, and another, a girl a
little older, he grasped with his other hand; and with the third, a boy
of something over nine, beside them, they all four came down the steps
and crossed the terrace to meet the radiant lady.

On the next terrace they met. He dropped his children's hands, and
stopped. He was a man of some thirty years, richly clad, and handsome
beyond measure. As he stopped, the multitude found its voice. A mighty
shout went up.

"Long live the King! Long live the King!"

He paid no attention. His eyes were on the fair lady before him. A cry
from the oldest boy rang out clear and sharp in the silence.

"Mother!"

The King held out his arms.

"My darling!" he cried. "At last! At last!"

"Beloved!" she cried, and rushed into his arms, and buried her face in
his shoulder.

The children clung to her, weeping, and with one arm she pressed them
close against her side.

The multitude found its voice again.

"Long live Queen Miranda! Long live Queen Miranda!"

CHAPT