delight.

"Oh, godmother, you have not forsaken me!"

"Not at all, my son. You may not have seen me, but I have seen you many
a time."

"How?"

"Oh, never mind. I can turn into anything I please, you know. And I have
been a bearskin rug, and a crystal goblet--and sometimes I have changed
from inanimate to animate nature, put on feathers, and made myself very
comfortable as a bird."

"Ha!" laughed the prince, a new light breaking in upon him as he caught
the infection of her tone, lively and mischievous. "Ha! ha! a lark,
for instance?"

"Or a magpie," answered she, with a capital imitation of Mistress Mag's
croaky voice. "Do you suppose I am always sentimental, and never funny?
If anything makes you happy, gay, or grave, don't you think it is more
than likely to come through your old godmother?"

"I believe that," said the boy tenderly, holding out his arms. They
clasped one another in a close embrace.

Suddenly Prince Dolor looked very anxious. "You will not leave me now
that I am a king? Otherwise I had rather not be a king at all. Promise
never to forsake me!"