Charles does not "come round" so
quickly, but at the last moment he came and offered to yield the white
plume. I confess I was rather vexed with Mr. Clinton for accepting it,
but Alice and I despoiled our best hats of their black ostrich
feathers to make it up to Charles, and he said, with some dignity,
that he should never have offered the white one if he had not meant it
to be accepted.
One thing took us by surprise. We had had more trouble over the
dressing of the new Prince than the costumes and make-up of all the
rest of the characters together cost--he was only just torn from the
big looking-glass by his "call" to the stage, and, to our amazement,
he seemed decidedly unwilling to go on.
"It's a very odd thing, Miss Alice," said he in accents so pitiable
that I did not wonder that Alice did her best to encourage him,--"it's
a most extraordinary thing, but I feel quite nervous."
"You'll be all right when you're once on," said Alice; "mind you don't
forget that it depends on you to explain that it's an invincible
shield."
"Which arm had I better wear it on?" said Mr. Clinton, shifting it
nervously from side to side.
"The left, the left!" cried Alice. "Now you ought to be on.
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