The tenth one was in a very loud orange and was headed:

SCHEME FOR a.s.sISTING CALISTHENICS IN REALM

"Yes," said the Princess faintly; "I think it would be a good idea."

"I thought if your Royal Highness approved," said Belvane, "we might just----"

Hyacinth felt herself blushing guiltily--she couldn't think why.

"I leave it to you, Countess," she murmured. "I am sure you know best."

It was a remark which she would never have made to her Father.

CHAPTER V

BELVANE INDULGES HER HOBBY

In a glade in the forest the Countess Belvane was sitting: her throne, a fallen log, her courtiers, that imaginary audience which was always with her. For once in her life she was nervous; she had an anxious morning in front of her.

I can tell you the reason at once. Her Royal Highness was going to review her Royal Highness's Army of Amazons (see _Scheme II, Safety of Realm_). In half an hour she would be here.

And why not? you say. Could anything be more gratifying?

I will tell you why not. There was no Army of Amazons. In order that her Royal Highness should not know the sad truth, Belvane drew their pay for them. 'Twas better thus.

In any trouble Belvane comforted herself by reading up her diary. She undid the enormous volume, and, idly turning the pages, read some of the more delightful extracts to herself.

"_Monday, June 1st_," she read. "Became bad."

She gave a sigh of resignation to the necessity of being bad. Roger Scurvilegs is of the opinion that she might have sighed a good many years before. According to him she was born bad.

"_Tuesday, June 2nd_," she read on. "Realised in the privacy of my heart that I was destined to rule the country. _Wednesday, June 3rd._ Decided to oust the Princess. _Thursday, June 4th._ Began ousting."

What a confession for any woman--even for one who had become bad last Monday! No wonder Belvane's diary was not for everybody. Let us look over her shoulder and read some more of the wicked woman's confessions.

"_Friday, June 5th._ Made myself a----" Oh, that's quite private.

However we may read this: "_Thought for the week._ Beware lest you should tumble down In reaching for another's crown." An admirable sentiment which Roger Scurvilegs would have approved, although he could not have rhymed it so neatly.

The Countess turned on a few more pages and prepared to write up yesterday's events.

"_Tuesday, June 23rd_," she said to herself. "Now what happened?

Acclaimed with enthusiasm outside the Palace--how do you spell 'enthusiasm'?" She bit the end of her pencil and pondered. She turned back the pages till she came to the place.

"Yes," she said thoughtfully. "It had three 's's' last time, so it's 'z's' turn."

She wrote "enthuzziazm" lightly in pencil; later on it would be picked out in gold.

She closed the diary hastily. Somebody was coming.

It was Wiggs.

"Oh, if you please, your Ladyship, her Royal Highness sent me to tell you that she would be here at eleven o'clock to review her new army."

It was the last thing of which Belvane wanted reminding.

"Ah, Wiggs, sweet child," she said, "you find me overwhelmed." She gave a tragic sigh. "Leader of the Corps de Ballet"--she indicated with her toe how this was done, "Commander-in-Chief of the Army of Amazons"--here she saluted, and it was certainly the least she could do for the money, "Warden of the Antimaca.s.sars and Grand Mistress of the Robes, I have a busy life. Just come and dust this log for her Royal Highness. All this work wears me out, Wiggs, but it is my duty and I do it."

"Woggs says you make a very good thing out of it," said Wiggs innocently, as she began to dust. "It must be nice to make very good things out of things."

The Countess looked coldly at her. It is one thing to confide to your diary that you are bad, it's quite another to have Woggsseses shouting it out all over the country.

"I don't know what Woggs is," said Belvane sternly, "but send it to me at once."

As soon as Wiggs was gone, Belvane gave herself up to her pa.s.sions.

She strode up and down the velvety sward, saying to herself, "Bother!

Bother! Bother! Bother!" Her outbreak of violence over, she sat gloomily down on the log and abandoned herself to despair. Her hair fell in two plaits down her back to her waist; on second thoughts she arranged them in front--if one is going to despair one may as well do it to the best advantage.

Suddenly a thought struck her.

"I am alone," she said. "Dare I soliloquise? I will. It is a thing I have not done for weeks. 'Oh, what a----" She got up quickly.

"_n.o.body_ could soliloquise on a log like that," she said crossly.

She decided she could do it just as effectively when standing. With one pale hand raised to the skies she began again.

"Oh, what a--"

"Did you call me, Mum?" said Woggs, appearing suddenly.

"_Bother!_" said Belvane. She gave a shrug of resignation. "Another time," she told herself. She turned to Woggs.

Woggs must have been quite close at hand to have been found by Wiggs so quickly, and I suspect her of playing in the forest when she ought to have been doing her lessons, or mending stockings, or whatever made up her day's work. Woggs I find nearly as difficult to explain as Wiggs; it is a terrible thing for an author to have a lot of people running about his book, without any invitation from him at all.

However, since Woggs is there, we must make the best of her. I fancy that she was a year or two younger than Wiggs and of rather inferior education. Witness her low innuendo about the Lady Belvane, and the fact that she called a Countess "Mum."

"Come here," said Belvane. "Are you what they call Woggs?"

"Please, Mum," said Woggs nervously.

The Countess winced at the "Mum," but went on bravely. "What have you been saying about me?"

"N--Nothing, Mum."

Belvane winced again, and said, "Do you know what I do to little girls who say things about me? I cut their heads off; I----" She tried to think of something very alarming! "I--I stop their jam for tea. I--I am _most_ annoyed with them."

Woggs suddenly saw what a wicked thing she had done.

"Oh, please, Mum," she said brokenly and fell on her knees.

"_Don't_ call me 'Mum,'" burst out Belvane. "It's so _ugly_. Why do you suppose I ever wanted to be a countess at all, Woggs, if it wasn't so as not to be called 'Mum' any more?"