footman behind her chair and all sorts of curious glass and
china and silver things before her. But she watched what Bonnibelle did,
and so got on pretty well, and ate peaches and cream and cake and dainty
white rolls and bonbons with a good appetite. She would not touch the
little birds in the silver dish, though they smelt very nice, but said
sadly,--

"No, thank you, sir; I couldn't eat my friends."

The footman tried not to laugh; but the Princess pushed away her own
plate with a frown, saying,--

"Neither will I. Give me some apricot jelly and a bit of angel cake. Now
that I know more about birds and what they think of me, I shall be
careful how I treat them. Don't bring any more to my table."

After lunch the children went to the library, where all the best
picture-books ever printed were ranged on the shelves, and cosey little
chairs stood about where one could sit and read delicious fairy tales
all day long. Betty skipped for joy when her new friend picked out a
pile of the gayest and best for her to take home; and then they went to
the music-room, where a band played beautifully and the Princess danced
with her master in a stately way that Betty thought very stupid.

"Now you must dance. I've heard how finely you do it; for some lords and
ladies saw you dancing with the daisies, and said it was the prettiest
ballet they ever looked at. You _must_! No, please do, dear Betty," said
Bonnibelle, commanding at first; then, remembering what the parrot said,
she spoke more gently.

"I cannot here before these people. I don't know any steps, and need
flowers to dance with me," said Betty.

"Then come on the terrace; there are plenty of flowers in the garden,
and I am tired of this," answered Bonnibelle, going through one of the
long windows to the wide marble walk where Betty had been longing to go.

Several peacocks were sitting on the steps, and they at once spread
their splendid tails and began to strut before the children, making a
harsh noise as they tossed the crowns of shining feathers on their
heads.

"What do they say?" asked the Princess.

"'Here comes the vain little creature who thinks her fine clothes
handsomer than ours, and likes to show them off to poorer people and put
on proud airs. We don't admire her; for we know how silly she is, for
all her fine feathers.'"

"I won't listen to any more rude words from these bad birds, and I won't
praise their splendid tails as I meant to. Go along, y