ly son of Savio, King
of Paflagonia, hereby promise to marry the charming Barbara Griselda
Countess Gruffanuff, and widow of the late Jenkins Gruffanuff, Esq."

"H'm," says the Archbishop, "the document is certainly a--a document."

"Phoo!" says the Lord Chancellor, "the signature is not in his Majesty's
handwriting." Indeed, since his studies at Bosforo, Giglio had made an
immense improvement in caligraphy.

"Is it your handwriting, Giglio?" cries the Fairy Blackstick, with an
awful severity of countenance.

"Y--y--y--es," poor Giglio gasps out, "I had quite forgotten the
confounded paper: she can't mean to hold me by it. You old wretch, what
will you take to let me off? Help the Queen, some one--her Majesty has
fainted."

"Chop her head off!" } exclaim the impetuous Hedzoff,

"Smother the old witch!" } the ardent Smith, and the

"Pitch her into the river!"} faithful Jones.

But Gruffanuff flung her arms round the Archbishop's neck, and bellowed
out, "Justice, justice, my Lord Chancellor!" so loudly, that her
piercing shrieks caused everybody to pause. As for Rosalba, she was
borne away lifeless by her ladies; and you may imagine the look of agony
which Giglio cast towards that lovely being, as his hope, his joy, his
darling, his all in all, was thus removed, and in her place the horrid
old Gruffanuff rushed up to his side, and once more shrieked out,
"Justice, justice!"

"Won't you take that sum of money which Glumboso hid?" says Giglio; "two
hundred and eighteen thousand millions, or thereabouts. It's a handsome
sum."

"I will have that and you too!" says Gruffanuff.

"Let us throw the crown jewels into the bargain," gasps out Giglio.

"I will wear them by my Giglio's side!" says Gruffanuff.

"Will half, three-quarters, five-sixths, nineteen-twentieths, of my
kingdom do, Countess?" asks the trembling monarch.

"What were all Europe to me without YOU, my Giglio?" cries Gruff,
kissing his hand.

"I won't, I can't, I shan't,--I'll resign the crown first," shouts
Giglio, tearing away his hand; but Gruff clung to it.

"I have a competency, my love," she says, "and with thee and a cottage
thy Barbara will be happy."

Giglio was half mad with rage by this time. "I will not marry her,"
says he. "Oh, Fairy, Fairy, give me counsel?" And as he spoke he looked
wildly round at the severe face of the Fairy Blackstick.

"'Why is Fairy Blackstick always advising me, and warning me to keep my
word? Does she sup