They made their best bows to
the goddesses and took their places as unembarrassed as though
they had had Olympian suppers every night of their lives. Hebe
had woven wreaths of roses ready for them, and as Kathleen
watched them eating and drinking, perfectly at home in their
marble, she was very glad that amid the welling springs of
immortal peach-juice she had not forgotten her brothers.
"And now," said Hera, when the boys had been supplied with
everything they could possibly desire, and more than they could
eat "now for the story."
"Yes," said Mabel intensely; and Kathleen said, "Oh yes; now for
the story. How splendid!"
"The story," said Phoebus unexpectedly, "will be told by our
guests."
"Oh no!" said Kathleen, shrinking.
"The lads, maybe, are bolder," said Zeus the king, taking off his
rose-wreath, which was a little tight, and rubbing his compressed
ears.
"I really can't," said Gerald; "besides, I don't know any stories."
"Nor yet me," said Jimmy.
"It's the story of how we got the ring that they want," said Mabel in
a hurry. "I'll tell it if you like, Once upon a time there was a little
girl called Mabel," she added yet more hastily, and went on with
the tale all the tale of the enchanted castle, or almost all, that you
have read in these pages. The marble Olympians listened
enchanted almost as enchanted as the castle itself, and the soft
moonlit moments fell past like pearls dropping into a deep pool.
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