"not to say out
of order. But still, in view of the advantage to be gained, and by
considering it in the light of medical treatment--and if you promise to
go away directly after, just like a physician, or--or a
singing-master,--perhaps something might be arranged."

The end of it was that the Poet was taken into the garden, and there
was the little blind Princess sound asleep in her hammock, with a maid
of honour fanning her on each side.

"Hush," whispered the Queen. "She must not awake, on _any_ account."

"No," echoed the poor, ugly Poet; "she must not awake--on _my_ account."

Then he bent over her, for the second time in his life, and touched her
eyelids with his lips. The Princess went on dreaming happily, but the
Poet turned and fled out of the city.

"At least," he said, "she shall never know how ugly I am."

That day, every Prince who was in the palace put on his best court
suit, in order to charm the Princess. But the Princess refused to be
charmed. She looked at them all, with large, frightened eyes, and sent
them away, one by one, as they came to offer her their congratulations.

"Why do you congratulate me on being able to see you?" she asked them.
"Are you so beautiful, then?"

"Oh, _no_," they said in a chorus. "Do not imagine such a thing for a
moment."

"Then why should I be glad because I can see you?" persisted the
Princess; and they went away much perplexed.

"Tell me what is beautiful," said the little Princess to her mother.
"All my life I have longed to look on beauty, and now it is all so
confusing that I cannot tell one thing from another. Is there anything
beautiful here?"

"To be sure there is," replied the Queen. "This room is very beautiful
to begin with, and the nation is still being taxed to pay for it."

"This room?" said the Princess in astonishment. "How can anything be
beautiful that keeps out the sun and the air? Tell me something else
that is beautiful."

"The dresses of the ladies in waiting are very beautiful," said the
Queen. "And the ladies in waiting themselves might be called beautiful
by some, though that of course is a matter of opinion."

"They all look alike to me," sighed the little Princess. "Is there
nothing else here that is beautiful?"

"Certainly," answered the Queen, pointing out the wealthiest and most
eligible Prince in the room. "That is the handsomest man you could
ever want to see."

"That?" said the Princess, disconsolately. "