"I suppose," remarked a lady who was very tall and majestic in her
carriage, "that this nurse would not object to her Royal Highness
being put to bed without--her nightgown, even!"

And she held out the Princess's little embroidered nightgown, and
gazed at the Head-nurse with an awful air.

"I beg your pardon humbly, my Ladies," responded the Head-nurse
meekly. Then she bent over the basket to lift out the Princess.

Every one stood listening for her Royal Highness's pitiful scream
when she should awake. The lady with the cup of posset held it in
readiness, and the ladies with the Cream of Lilies, the violet and
almond pomade and the ivory hair-brush looked anxious to begin their
duties. The Prima Donna stood with her song in hand, and the first
court fiddler had his bow raised all ready to play the accompaniment
for her. Writing a fresh lullaby for the Princess every day, and
setting it to music, were among the regular duties of the Poet
Laureate and the first musical composer of the court.

The Head-nurse with her eyes full of tears because of the reproaches
she had received, reached down her arms and attempted to lift the
Princess Rosetta--suddenly she turned very white, and tossed aside the
veil and the satin coverlet. Then she gave a loud scream, and fell
down in a faint.

The ladies stared at one another.

"What is the matter with the Head-nurse?" they asked. Then the second