It seemed natural enough that the gardener should be filled with
exuberant delight at the return of so gracious a master and mistress
and how strangely childlike they looked! I could have taken them for
Sylvie and Bruno less natural that he should show it by such wild
dances, such crazy songs!

"He thought he saw a Rattlesnake
That questioned him in Greek:
He looked again, and found it was
The Middle of Next Week.
'The one thing I regret,' he said,
'Is that it cannot speak!"

--least natural of all that the Vice-Warden and 'my Lady' should be
standing close beside me, discussing an open letter, which had just
been handed to him by the Professor, who stood, meekly waiting,
a few yards off.

"If it were not for those two brats," I heard him mutter, glancing
savagely at Sylvie and Bruno, who were courteously listening to the
Gardener's song, "there would be no difficulty whatever."

"Let's hear that bit of the letter again," said my Lady.
And the Vice-Warden read aloud:-

"--and we therefore entreat you graciously to accept the Kingship,
to which you have been unanimously elected by the Council of Elfland:
and that you will allow your son Bruno of whose goodness, cleverness,
and beauty, reports have reached us--to be regarded as Heir-Apparent."