ing to her, and yet the Princess did not for a moment
flatter herself with the idea that he was in love with her, though it
did not take her long to decide that he certainly loved someone. But one
day the Princess, wandering sadly by the river, spied Prince Featherhead
fast asleep in the shade of a tree, and stole nearer to enjoy the
delight of gazing at his dear face unobserved. Judge of her astonishment
when she saw that he was holding in his hand a portrait of herself! In
vain did she puzzle over the apparent contradictoriness of his
behaviour. Why did he cherish her portrait while he was so fatally
indifferent to herself? At last she found an opportunity of asking him
the name of the Princess whose picture he carried about with him always.

[Illustration]

'Alas! how can I tell you?' replied he.

'Why should you not?' said the Princess timidly. 'Surely there is
nothing to prevent you.'

'Nothing to prevent me!' repeated he, 'when my utmost efforts have
failed to discover the lovely original. Should I be so sad if I could
but find her? But I do not even know her name.'

More surprised than ever, the Princess asked to be allowed to see the
portrait, and after examining it for a few minutes returned it,
remarking shyly that at least the original had every cause to be
satisfied with it.

'That means that you consider it flattered,' said the Prince severely.
'Really, Celandine, I thought better of you, and should have expected
you to be above such contemptible jealousy. But all women are alike!'

'Indeed, I meant only that it was a good likeness,' said the Princess
meekly.

'Then you know the original,' cried the Prince, throwing himself on his
knees beside her. 'Pray tell me at once who it is, and don't keep me in
suspense!'

'Oh! don't you see that it is meant for me?' cried Celandine.

The Prince sprang to his feet, hardly able to refrain from telling her
that she must be blinded by vanity to suppose she resembled the lovely
portrait even in the slightest degree; and after gazing at her for an
instant with icy surprise, turned and left her without another word, and
in a few hours quitted the Leafy Palace altogether.

Now the Princess was indeed unhappy, and could no longer bear to stay in
a place where she had been so cruelly disdained. So, without even
bidding farewell to the King and Queen, she left the valley behind her,
and wandered sadly away, not caring whither. After walking until she was
weary, s