Giglio, from behind the throne, burst out into a roar of contemptuous laughter; but all the Royal party, in fact, were so flurried, that they did not hear this little outbreak. "Your R. H. is welcome in any dress," says the King. "Glumboso, a chair for His Royal Highness."
"Any dress His Royal Highness wears IS a Court dress," says Princess Angelica, smiling graciously.
"Ah! but you should see my other clothes," said the Prince. "I should have had them on, but that stupid carrier has not brought them. Who's that laughing?"
It was Giglio laughing. "I was laughing," he said, "because you said just now that you were in such a hurry to see the Princess, that you could not wait to change your dress; and now you say you come in those clothes because you have no others."
"And who are you?" says Prince Bulbo, very fiercely.
"My father was King of this country, and I am his only son, Prince!" replies Giglio, with equal haughtiness.
"My rose! my rose!" cried Bulbo; and his chamberlain dashed forwards and picked it up, and gave it to the Prince, who put it in his waistcoat. Then people wondered why they had laughed; there was nothing particularly ridiculous in him. He was rather short, rather stout, rather red-haired, but, in fine, for a Prince, not so bad.
So they sat and talked, the Royal personages together, the Crim Tartar officers with those of Paflagonia——Giglio very comfortable with Gruffanuff behind the throne. He looked at her with such tender eyes, that her heart was all in a flutter. "Oh, dear Prince," she said, "how could you speak so haughtily in presence of Their Majesties? I protest I thought I should have fainted."
"I should have caught you in my arms," said Giglio, looking raptures.
"Why were you so cruel to Prince Bulbo, dear Prince?" says Gruff.