Queen Fleur never could meet the ladies of the nobility-and she was forever meeting them-without sensing their pity for her. They conveyed their sympathy in delicate and highly irritating ways.

No doubt Queen Fleur shed bitter tears about it-in private, for the King hated tears-as any peasant woman might have done. And like any peasant woman when opportunity offered she sought revenge upon the women who had presumed to pity a queen.

So Queen Fleur recommended polygamy.

The idea was so simple, so remedial, that King Borel marveled he had not thought of it himself. But of course the credit did really belong to him. Had he not first set the example it is quite probable Queen Fleur would never have thought of it. King Borel despatched his couriers to summon his Generals for of course all the Generals had returned with the remnant of the army. Naturally no women were summoned to such an important conference. Yet the King realized that polygamy was a matter in which women would be interested. The King even thought it possible that some of them might prove antagonistic. But he anticipated no serious opposition, for he had always found the women of Loveana amenable to reason when appeals were couched in terms of patriotism.

"I'll be doing them a kindness," said the King when he came to tell Queen Fleur of the impending conference. "Without polygamy, most of our girls will be spinsters, or form illicit relationships. We can not sanction that, of course."

"Of course not," agreed the Queen politely.

King Borel and his Generals palavered at great length. Not, of course, in opposition to the Queen's suggestion. Being Generals, they were accustomed to weighing matters in terms of their country's welfare. Were they not all men of mature judgment and years, with wives of their own vintage? Not one selfishly objected to polygamy.

The palaver did not come from dissent. The discussions all tended to the elucidation of one point-the best method of broaching the subject of a new, young wife to the wife already installed. The diversity of opinion put a severe strain on even the wisest of King Borel's Generals.

In the end, Loveana being an enlightened Kingdom, kindness prevailed. It was decided that no old wife should be put aside, nor was she to be too severely reproved if she failed to see the righteous necessity of the new order. For a time polygamy was to be the law of the land and it was every man's duty to have as many wives as his estates permitted. Being the law, women must respect it.

So the Generals departed, filled with the commendable resolve to be fruitful and to multiply and replenish the army. For the first time in its history the rank and file of the army was in full accord with its Generals. Discussion ran high in the thinned ranks as to the quickest method of making King Borel's hint of a subsidy for the army a reality.

There was the expected opposition from a number of wives, but it was more than offset by the approval of the unattractive spinsters.

"Please be reasonable, Mary," argued the mature Generals to their mature wives. "Surely you can see that polygamy is our only solution. Why, Queen Fleur herself suggested it!"

"She would," sniffed Mary, "with those hussies."

"We must have men for the army. It is either polygamy or widespread illegitimacy. You don't want that, do you?"

No, Mary did not want that. Enlightened Loveana dealt severely with its illegitimates. If Mary had vague doubts regarding the wisdom of raising an army by such methods, or of bearing sons to have them killed in early manhood, she wisely kept them to herself. She was, as her husband often reminded her, only a woman and hence subject to such vague doubts.

If wives wept bitterly when they were displaced, why, wives have always wept about one thing or another. If young girls with foolish rosy dreams of a young unshared husband cried because they found themselves with a husband that was neither, have not young girls cried since the dawn of time because their vision of romantic love faded into drab reality?

Once more the Kingdom of Loveana prospered. Lusty recruits for the army were being born with exemplary regularity. The neighbor on the north fortunately was absorbed in civil warfare and was unable to do more than look covetously on Loveana's potash.

It was deemed highly commendable in the older wives to attain to such a state of grace, patriotically, that they welcomed the new wife

Two years prior to the establishment of polygamy throughout the Kingdom of Loveana, Sir Jon Seggrick had taken unto himself a wife. Sir Jon was thought to be the most promising of King Borel's young officers-being then twenty

two.

Tall and fair, not too unhandsome, Sir Jon wore his Court uniform with an easy grace few of the Generals could equal.

Among the Ladies in Waiting to Queen Fleur was the Lady Isobel, a modest maiden of seventeen. Lady Isobel's eyes were as dark as Sir Jon's were blue, but what first attracted his critical gaze was a curly white tress arranged low on her smooth forehead, where it shone a silver crescent against the burnished midnight of her hair.

The curly white tress was beautiful, as the minx knew full well. But it was more. It was a symbol of Lady Isobel's canny instinct for twisting a liability into an asset-a trait that was to serve her well in the years to come. Most maidens of seventeen would have been at great pains to hide that lock of prematurely gray hair. Lady Isobel brought it forward for all to see-and to admire or criticize according to their sex.

Sir Jon and Lady Isobel fell so deeply in love that even Queen Fleur, who was inclined to be cynical about matters of the heart, was touched. She released Lady Isobel from her duties at Court. Then, after a wedding in the Queen's own chapel, Sir Jon and his bride rode away to his castle a few leagues distant.

And it came to pass that they reined their weary steeds beside the moat, dry these many years, just as the flaming sunset touched the minarets of the gloomy old castle with liquid gold. And Sir Jon tenderly led his bride through the high grilled doors into the great flagged hall, hung with the medieval weapons his ancestors had used in the cause of the Kingdom of Loveana. And in a vaulted room with high mullioned windows the end of a long refectory table was laid for two.

Sir Jon and Lady Isobel sat down to a dinner to which the majordomo had given much thought. The pièce de résistance was the head of a wild boar to which Sir Jon himself had given the coup de grâce. Crisp and odorous, it was brought to them upon a huge silver platter by the majordomo, who was followed by a retinue of lesser retainers each with a steaming savory dish.

And as they marched around the long table they decorously chanted the quite indecorous Song to Hy

Lady Isobel smiled and blushed and looked altogether adorable. The white tress gleamed like a silver crescent against the burnished midnight of her hair. And Sir Jon, being young and deeply in love, kissed his bride and swore a great oath that during all the years of his life, on their wedding-day, there should be served to them the head of a wild boar and sung to them the Song to Hymenæus.

And Lady Isobel, being young and deeply in love, fondly believed that life would be thus kind to her.

They were happy in the gloomy old castle. Lady Isobel made many soft warm cushions for the massive stone settles that lined the vast hall, which was cold in winter even when the logs blazed in the big fireplace. Cuddled beside Sir Jon, she sat on the cushions of evenings and listened to him discuss the next war. For it was now publicly known that King Borel, in reckoning the revenues of his Kingdom, was including the coal in a certain contiguous province.

Then war was declared. Sir Jon kissed his wife many times and rode away at the head of his retainers, who overnight had become soldiers. Lady Isobel sat alone on the soft cushions. Infrequently she wept. Even at eighteen Lady Isobel was not given to crying about matters over which she had no control. She really had a mind of her own, though many husbands deemed such possession not only unnecessary in a wife, but undesirable. Was not everything admirably arranged for them by the men?

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Nevertheless, Lady Isobel continued her habit of looking unpleasant situations squarely in the

face and deriving therefrom such pleasure or profit as she might.

The war lasted a year. And, as before mentioned, King Borel's remnant of an army returned without any coal. Sir Jon came home with a limp and with a great concern for the future of Loveana. And on the night of his return such of his faithful retainers who had escaped interment in foreign soil served him and his Lady with the head of a wild boar. And as they marched around the long table they decorously chanted the quite indecorous Song of Hy

Following the momentous conference with his Generals, King Borel despatched his couriers to the nobles of his Kingdom to acquaint them with His Majesty's decree making polygamy mandatory throughout his domains. Later a proclamation was issued for the peasantry. And King Borel derived no little pleasure from informing the nobles of the impending change in their domestic arrangements, remembering the many occasions on which Queen Fleur had expressed her mind frankly about the attractive morganatic ladies.

Sir Jon read the King's mandate with trained facial immobility, as he would have read an order to attack a superior enemy. But soon around his blue eyes came the little lines that betokened a quizzical mood. When he gave the mandate to Lady Isobel something akin to amused speculation shone in his eyes.

Now the Lady Isobel was intensely patriotic, but she couldn't help but feel there was a catch in it somewhere, especially for women.

"You understand, darling," said Sir Jon, "we must have men for the army. The census showed that the girls outnumbered the boys five to one."

"Then put the girls in the army," cried Lady Isobel. "Dearest, don't be foolish. Women must be protected from suffering."

"I'd like to know where you get the idea that having babies is a dress parade," said Lady Isobel irritably.

"You can not speak from experience," Sir Jon reminded her, casually. And with a pang Lady Isobel realized that her appeals for personal exemption would come to naught in light of her childless

ness.

Eventually the Lady Isobel resigned herself, as did most of the women. After her first pitiful outburst she did not cry again. She had less reason than ever for wanting the little wrinkles around her eyes that women get who cry too much. Sir Jon was considerate. He made no