The Court Painter of his Majesty the King of Crim Tartary returned to that monarch’s dominions, carrying away a number of sketches which he had made in the Paflagonian capital (you know, of course, my dears, that the name of that capital is Blombodinga); but the most charming of all his pieces was a portrait of the Princess Angelica, which all the Crim Tartar nobles came to see. With this work the King was so delighted, that he decorated the Painter with his Order of the Pumpkin (sixth class) and the artist became Sir Tomaso Lorenzo, K.P., thenceforth.

King Valoroso also sent Sir Tomaso his Order of the Cucumber, besides a handsome order for money, for he painted the King, Queen, and principal nobility while at Blombodinga, and became all the fashion, to the perfect rage of all the artists in Paflagonia, where the King used to point to the portrait of Prince Bulbo, which Sir Tomaso had left behind him, and say “Which among you can paint a picture like that?”

It hung in the royal parlor over the royal sideboard, and Princess Angelica could always look at it as she sat making the tea. Each day it seemed to grow handsomer and handsomer, and the Princess grew so fond of looking at it, that she would often spill the tea over the cloth, at which her father and mother would wink and wag their heads; and say to each other, “Aha! we see how things are going.”

In the meantime poor Giglio lay upstairs very sick in his chamber, though he took all the doctor’s horrible medicines like a good young lad: as I hope YOU do, my dears, when you are ill and mamma sends for the medical man. And the only person who visited Giglio (besides his friend the captain of the guard, who was almost always busy or on parade), was little Betsinda the housemaid, who used to do his bedroom and sitting-room out, bring him his gruel, and warm his bed.

When the little housemaid came to him in the morning and evening, Prince Giglio used to say, “Betsinda, Betsinda, how is the Princess Angelica?”

And Betsinda used to answer, “The Princess is very well, thank you, my Lord.” And Giglio would heave a sigh, and think, “If Angelica were sick, I am sure I should not be very well.”

Then Giglio would say, “Betsinda, has the Princess Angelica asked for me today?” And Betsinda would answer, “No, my Lord, not today”; or, “She was very busy practicing the piano when I saw her”; or, “She was writing invitations for an evening party, and did not speak to me”; or make some excuse or other, not strictly consonant with truth: for Betsinda was such a good-natured creature that she strove to do everything to prevent annoyance to Prince Giglio, and even brought him up roast chicken and jellies from the kitchen (when the Doctor allowed them, and Giglio was getting better), saying, “that the Princess had made the jelly, or the bread-sauce, with her own hands, on purpose for Giglio.”

When Giglio heard this he took heart and began to mend immediately; and gobbled up all the jelly, and picked the last bone of the chicken — drumsticks, merry-thought, sides’-bones, back, pope’s nose, and all — thanking his dear Angelica; and he felt so much better the next day, that he dressed and went downstairs — where, whom should he meet but Angelica going into the drawing-room? All the covers were off the chairs, the chandeliers taken out of the bags, the damask curtains uncovered, the work and things carried away, and the handsomest albums on the tables. Angelica had her hair in papers: in a word, it was evident there was going to be a party.

“Heavens, Giglio!” cries Angelica: “YOU here in such a dress! What a figure you are!”

“Yes, dear Angelica, I am come downstairs, and feel so well today, thanks to the FOWL and the JELLY.”

“What do I know about fowls and jellies, that you allude to them in that rude way?” says Angelica.

“Why, didn’t — didn’t you send them, Angelica dear?” says Giglio.

“I send them indeed! Angelica dear! No, Giglio dear,” says she, mocking him, “I was engaged in getting the rooms ready for His Royal Highness the Prince of Crim Tartary, who is............