man, he found no such explanation possible. The
King of Borva was in one of his grandest moods--dignified, courteous,
cautious, and yet inclined to treat everybody and everything with a
sort of lofty good-humor. He spoke to Lavender in the most friendly
way, but it was about the singular and startling fact that modern
research had proved many of the Roman legends to be utterly
untrustworthy. Mr. Mackenzie observed that the man was wanting in
proper courage who feared to accept the results of such inquiries. It
was better that we should know the truth, and then the kings who had
really made Rome great might emerge from the fog of tradition in their
proper shape. There was something quite sympathetic in the way he
talked of those ill-treated sovereigns, whom the vulgar mind had
clothed in mist.

Lavender was sorely beset by the rival claims of Rome and Borva upon
his attention. He was inwardly inclined to curse Numa Pompilius--which
would have been ineffectual--when he found that personage interfering
with a wild effort to discover why Mackenzie should treat him in this
way. And then it occurred to him that, as he had never said a word to
Mackenzie about this affair, it was too much to expect that Sheila's
father should himself open the subject. On the contrary, Mackenzie was
bent on extending a grave courtesy to his guest, so that the latter
should not feel ill at ease until it suited himself to make any
explanations he might choose. It was not Mackenzie's business to ask
this young man if he wanted to marry Sheila. No. The king's daughter,
if she were to be won at all, was to be won by a suitor, and it was
not for her father to be in a hurry about it. So Lavender got back
into the region of early Roman history, and tried to recall what he
had learned in Livy, and quite coincided with everything that Niebuhr
had said or proved, and with everything that Mackenzie thought Niebuhr
had said or proved. He was only too glad, indeed, to find himself
talking to Sheila's father in this friendly fashion.

Then Sheila came in and told them that supper was laid in the
adjoining room. At that modest meal a great good-humor prevailed.
Sometimes, it is true, it occurred to Ingram that Sheila occasionally
cast an anxious glance to her father, as if she were trying to
discover whether he was really satisfied, or whether he were not
merely pretending satisfaction to please her; but for the rest the
party was a most friendly and merry o