t, giving on a grassy
terrace. There the host's maiden sister, Lady Mary Guevara, was seated
by a tea-table, surrounded by dogs--two collies and an Aberdeenshire
terrier. Beside her were Father Riccoboni, with a newspaper in his hand,
Lady Alice, with whom Logan had already some acquaintance, and the Prince
of Scalastro. Logan was presented, and took quiet notes of the assembly,
while the usual chatter about the weather and his journey got itself
transacted, and the view of the valley of the Coquet had justice done to
its charms.

Lady Mary was very like a feminine edition of the Earl, refined, shy, and
with silvery hair. Lady Alice was a pretty, quiet type of the English
girl who is not up to date, with a particularly happy and winning
expression. The Prince was of a Teutonic fairness; for the Royal caste,
whatever the nationality, is to a great extent made in Germany, and
retains the physical characteristics of that ancient forest people whom
the Roman historian (never having met them) so lovingly idealised. The
Prince was tall, well-proportioned, and looked 'every inch a soldier.'
There were a great many inches.

As for Father Riccoboni, the learned have remarked that there are two
chief clerical types: the dark, ascetic type, to be found equally among
Unitarians, Baptists, Anglicans, Presbyterians, and Catholics, and the
burly, well-fed, genial type, which 'cometh eating and drinking.' The
Father was of this second kind; a lusty man--not that you could call him
a sensual-looking man, still less was he a noisy humourist; but he had a
considerable jowl, a strong jaw, a wide, firm mouth, and large teeth,
very white and square. Logan thought that he, too, had the makings of a
soldier, and also felt almost certain that he had seen him before. But
where?--for Logan's acquaintance with the clergy, especially the foreign
clergy, was not extensive. The Father spoke English very well, with a
slight German accent and a little hoarseness; his voice, too, did not
sound unfamiliar to Logan. But he delved in his subconscious memory in
vain; there was the Father, a man with whom he certainly had some
associations, yet he could not place the man.

A bell jangled somewhere without as they took tea and tattled; and,
looking towards the place whence the sound came, Logan saw a little group
of Italian musicians walking down the avenue which led through the park
to the east side of the house and the main entrance. They ente