nd the bed to the dressing-table.

But at the corner, and as soon as ever I saw round the chintz curtain,
my knees gave way, and I put out a hand towards the bed-post.

Before the dressing-table, and in front of the big glass, in which she
could see my white face, was an old lady seated.

She wore a blaze of jewels and a low gown out of which rose the
scraggiest neck and shoulders I have ever looked on. Her hair was thick
with black dye and fastened with a diamond star. The powder between the
two candles showed on her cheek-bones like flour on a miller's coat.
Chin on hand, she was gazing steadily into the mirror before her, and
even in my fright I had time to note that a glass of sherry and a plate
of rice and curry stood at her elbow, among the rouge-pots and
powder-puffs.

While I stood stock still and pretty well scared out of my wits, she
rose, still staring at my image in the glass, folded her hands modestly
over her bosom, and spoke in a deep tragical voice--

"The Prince!"

Then, facing sharply round, she held out her thin arms.

"You have come--at last?"

There wasn't much to say to this except that I had. So I confessed it.
Even with the candles behind her I could see her eyes glowing like a
dog's, and an uglier poor creature this world could scarcely show.

"Is the ladder set against the window?"

"Since you seem to know, ma'am," said I, "it is."

"Ah, Romeo! Your cheeks are ruddy--your poppies are too red."

"Then I'm glad my colour's come back; for, to tell the truth, you did
give me a turn, just at first. You were looking out for me, no
doubt----"

"My Prince!"--She stretched out her arms again, and being pretty well at
my wits' end I let her embrace me. "It has been so long," she said. "Oh,
the weary while! And they ill-treat me here. Where have you been, all
this tedious time?"

I wasn't going to answer _that_, you may be sure. It appeared to me that
'twas my right to ask questions rather than stand there answering them.

"If they've been ill-treating you, ma'am," said I, "they shall answer
for it."

"My love!"

"Yes, ma'am. Would it be taking a liberty if I asked their names?"

"There is Gertrude--"

"Gertrude's hash is as good as settled, ma'am."

I checked Gertrude off on my thumb.

"--that's my niece."

For a moment I feared I'd been a little too prompt. But she went on----

"And next there's Henry; and the children--who have more than once made
faces at me; and Phipson.