“Cheri!” repeated Jeanne, stopping half-way up the staircase to throw her arms round Hugh’s neck at the greatest risk to the equilibrium of the whole party, including the guinea-pig—­“Cheri! I shall always call you so, then.  You shall be my Prince Cheri.  Don’t you love fairy stories, mon cousin?”

“Awfully,” said Hugh, from the bottom of his soul.

[Illustration:  ’ISN’T IT A FUNNY ROOM, CHERI?’—­p. 25]

“I knew you would,” said Jeanne triumphantly.  “And oh, so do I!  Marcelline says, Cheri, that the tapestry room—­that’s the room you’re going to have—­is full of fairy stories.  I wonder if you’ll find out any of them.  You must tell me if you do.”

“The tapestry room?” repeated Hugh; “I don’t think I ever saw a tapestry room.  Oh,” he added, as a sudden recollection struck him, “is it like what that queen long ago worked about the battles and all that?  I mean all about William the Conqueror.”

“No,” said Jeanne, “it’s quite different from that work.  I’ve seen that, so I know.  It isn’t pretty at all.  It’s just long strips of linen with queer-shaped horses and things worked on.  Not at all pretty.  And I think the pictures on the walls of your room are pretty.  Here it is.  Isn’t it a funny room, Cheri?”

She opened the door of the tapestry room as she spoke, for while chattering they had mounted the staircase and made their way along the corridor.  Hugh followed his little cousin into the room, and stood gazing round him with curious surprise and pleasure.  The walls were well lighted up, for Marcelline had carried a lamp upstairs and set it down on the table, and a bright fire was burning in the wide old-fashioned hearth.

“Jeanne,” said Hugh, after a minute’s silence, “Jeanne, it is very funny, but, do you know, I am sure I have seen this room before.  I seem to know the pictures on the walls.  Oh, how nice they are!  I didn’t think that was what tapestry meant.  Oh, how glad I am this is to be my room—­is yours like this too, Jeanne?”

Jeanne shook her head.

“Oh no, Cheri,” she said.  “My room has a nice paper—­roses and things like that running up and down.  I am very glad my room is not like this.  I don’t think I should like to see all these funny creatures in the night.  You don’t know how queer they look in the moonlight.  They quite frightened me once.”

Hugh opened his blue eyes very wide.

“Frightened you?” he said.  “I should never be frightened at them.  They are so nice and funny.  Just look at those peacocks, Jeanne.  They are lovely.”

Jeanne still shook her head.

“I don’t think so,” she said.  “I can’t bear those peacocks.  But I’m very glad you like them, Cheri.”

“I wish it was moonlight to-night,” continued Hugh.  “I don’t think I should go to sleep at all.  I would lie awake watching all the pictures.  I dare say they look rather nice in the firelight too, but still not so nice as in the moonlight.”