so that
the glasses rang.

This incident attracted every one's attention. Conversation flagged, and
presently the Princess gave the signal for rising from the table. The
ladies went out in advance, each turning as she left her seat and making
a low courtesy to the King. Mrs. Carey was the last in the procession.
As she passed through the door, her glance fell full on a man standing a
little to one side, and gazing at her intently. She faltered, but only
for an instant.

"Why, Mr. Jawkins, when did you arrive? Welcome to court," she cried in
a cordial, conciliatory tone, holding out her hand.

Jawkins bowed stiffly, not seeming to see Mrs. Carey's hand. "Yes, I am
come," he answered, "but small thanks to you, madam."

Dissimulation was not one of Jawkins's accomplishments.

"This is no place for a scene," she said, in a low tone. "If you wish an
interview with me there will be an opportunity later. The drawing-room
begins at ten. You will see me there." She smiled and showed her teeth
ravishingly, despite the serious purport of her words.

"It is the King I wish to see, Mrs. Carey, not you," Jawkins replied
significantly.

"Ah, indeed?" said the beauty, and she followed the Princess up the
staircase.

The rest of the royal party remained only a few minutes in the
dining-room. The King enjoyed a stroll through the corridor after
dinner. He liked to chat with the habitues of the hotel and watch the
billiard-players. To-night the Duke of Wellington and young Paget were
in special attendance.

The King stepped up to the cigar counter. "Something mild and not too
expensive," said he.

The attendant indicated several brands for his selection.

"Three for a quarter?" asked the ex-ruler, as he picked up three
ten-cent cigars.

The man nodded, and the King, having presented a cigar to each of his
companions, lit his own. His eye presently fell upon a pile of trunks,
all of the latest and most improved manufacture, and marked with the
letters "J. J." "A new arrival, I see," he said to a denizen of the
hotel who knew everybody, and who derived pleasure from the prestige of
conversing with royalty.

"Yes, your Majesty. A--a--a subject of yours, if I mistake not. He signs
himself 'Jarley Jawkins, London.' Will your Majesty honor me with a
light?"

"Jarley Jawkins!" cried the King. "It must be the individual caterer of
whose wealth we have heard so much. His attentions to my friends during
the interregnum deserve r