mentioning casually to her Gablehurst friends--and Lady Harriet
especially--that she would shortly be leaving them to occupy a throne.

"Precisely my own feeling," said Mr. Stimpson, thinking regretfully how
the news would have made that confounded fellow Thistleton sit up, and
of the sensation it might have produced in the train to the City. "It
is, to say the least of it, unfortunate that I had no time to
communicate with the other members of my firm."

"And there's Clarence, too!" said his fond mother. "His Company will be
quite helpless without him!"

"They may be in a bit of a hole at first," he admitted, thankful now
that he had said nothing about his resignation, or the readiness with
which it had been accepted. "Still, no fellow is indispensable. What?"

The Fairy explained that haste had been unavoidable, as it might have
been injurious to the storks if they had remained longer in a climate to
which they were unaccustomed.

"But why send storks to fetch us at all?" demanded Mrs.
Wibberley-Stimpson. "Why not some more modern conveyance?... There they
are again with the car--coming back for us, I expect.... Yes, I can make
out Baron Troitz and the trumpeters--and there seems to be a gentleman
in armour with them."

"The Regent, Marshal Federhelm," said the Fairy. "He is coming to offer
his congratulations."

"Is he?" cried Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson, scrambling to her feet again in
some dismay. "A Regent! I--I wish I knew the proper way of addressing
him!"

The storks by this time had brought the car to ground, and were now
standing about on one leg with folded wings and an air of detachment.
The Marshal alighted and advanced slowly towards the Stimpsons while the
heralds sounded their trumpets.

He made a formidable and warrior-like figure in his golden half-armour
of a kind unknown to antiquarians, and great jack-boots of gilded
leather. He was tall, and the towering mass of waving feathers that
crowned his helmet made him look taller still. His vizor was raised,
showing a swarthy, hook-nosed face, with quick, restless eyes like a
lizard's, a fierce moustache, and a bristling beard that spread out in a
stiff black fan.

"_You_ had better speak to him, Sidney," whispered his wife, overcome by
sudden panic; "I really can't."

"Er--" began Mr. Stimpson nervously, "I believe I have the pleasure of
addressing the Regent. We--we're the new King and Queen, you know, and
these are the other members of the f