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“We will lift her Royal Highness out very carefully, and possibly we can put her to bed without waking her,” said the Head-nurse.

But her Royal Highness’s ladies-of-the-bed-chamber who were in waiting set up such screams of horror at her remark, that it was a wonder that the Princess did not awake directly.

“O-h!” cried a lady-of-the-bed-chamber, “put her Royal Highness to bed, in defiance of all etiquette, before the Prima Donna of the court has sung her lullaby! Preposterous! Lift her out without waking her, indeed! This nurse should be dismissed from the court!”

“O-h!” cried another lady, tossing her lovely head scornfully, and giving her silken train an indignant swish; “the idea of putting her Royal Highness to bed without the silver cup of posset, which I have here for her!”

“And without taking her rose-water bath!” cried another, who was dabbling her lily fingers in a little ivory bath filled with rose-water.

“And without being anointed with this Cream of Lilies!” cried one with a little ivory jar in her hand.

“And without having every single one of her golden ringlets dressed with this pomade scented with violets and almonds!” cried one with a round porcelain box.

“Or even having her curls brushed!” cried a lady as if she were fainting, and she brandished an ivory hair-brush set with turquoises.

“I suppose,” remarked a lady who was very tall and majestic in her carriage, “that this nurse would not object to her Royal Highness being put to bed without–her nightgown, even!”

And she held out the Princess’s little embroidered nightgown, and gazed at the Head-nurse with an awful air.

“I beg your pardon humbly, my Ladies,” responded the Head-nurse meekly. Then she bent over the basket to lift out the Princess.

Every one stood listening for her Royal Highness’s pitiful scream when she should awake. The lady with the cup of posset held it in readiness, and the ladies with the Cream of Lilies, the violet and almond pomade and the ivory hair-brush looked anxious to begin their duties. The Prima Donna stood with her song in hand, and the first court fiddler had his bow raised all ready to play the accompaniment for her. Writing a fresh lullaby for the Princess every day, and setting it to music, were among the regular duties of the Poet Laureate and the first musical composer of the court.

The Head-nurse with her eyes full of tears because of the reproaches she had received, reached down her arms and attempted to lift the Princess Rosetta–suddenly she turned very white, and tossed aside the veil and the satin coverlet. Then she gave a loud scream, and fell down in a faint.

The ladies stared at one another.

“What is the matter with the Head-nurse?” they asked. Then the second nurse stepped up to the basket and reached down to clasp the Princess Rosetta. Then she gave a loud scream, and fell down in a faint.

The third nurse, trembling so she could scarcely stand, came next. After she had stooped over the basket, she also gave a loud scream and fainted. Then the fourth nurse stepped up, bent over the basket, and fainted. So all the Princess Rosetta’s nurses lay fainting on the floor beside her basket.

It was contrary to the rules of etiquette for any one except the nurses to approach nearer than five yards to her Royal Highness before she was taken from her basket. So they crowded together at that distance and craned their necks.

“What can ail the nurses?” they whispered in terrified tones. They could not go near enough to the basket to see what the trouble was, and still it seemed very necessary that they should.

“I wish I had a telescope,” said the lady with the hair-brush.

But there was none in the room, and it was contrary to the rules of etiquette for any person to leave it until the Princess was taken from the basket.

There seemed to be no proper way out of the difficulty. Finally the first fiddler stood up with an air of resolution, and began unwinding the green silk sash from his waist. It was eleven yards long. He doubled it, and launched it at the basket, like a lasso.