looked important enough for a princess, at least, as she accepted
(I can't say took) the paper and opened it. "Oh, I might have known,"
she said, "it's that one the Prince sent this morning. But isn't it
funny he telegraphs 'Automobile in grand condition, took hills like
bird, shall make slight detour for pleasure, but will reach Cuneo
almost as soon as your party. Dalmar-Kalm.' I don't understand, do you?"

"I understand why the Prince was willing to be left behind at Tenda, and
why he wanted to get to this hotel first, anyhow," said I; and Sir Ralph
and I were laughing like mad when his belated Highness appeared on the
scene. Seeing Mamma with the telegram in her hand, he explained volubly
that it had been sent before he decided to save time and wear and tear
by coming on the train; but he was red, and stammery, and Sir Ralph
looked almost sympathetic, which made me wonder whether _all_ motor-men
sometimes tell fibs.

After being received with so much appreciation, Mamma began to think
that perhaps the hotel wasn't so dreadful after all; and when Sir Ralph
gave his opinion that it would prove as good as any other, she said that
we would stay.

"I should be sorry to hurt the people's feelings, as they seem such
_nice_ men," she sighed. "But--I suppose it will only be for coffee?"

"I'm sorely afraid it will be for dinner to-night and breakfast
to-morrow morning too," replied Sir Ralph. "It's too bad that virtue
such as ours should have such a reward. We did unto others as we would
they should do unto us; and this is the consequence. Terry intends to
work all night on the car, if he can get the mechanic to keep his shop
going, and we may hope to start as early in the morning as you like."

"Perhaps Joseph may have mine ready to-night, in which case I can take
the ladies on--" the Prince began, but Mamma was too overcome to hear
him. Trying to look like a Countess at all costs, she allowed herself
and us to be led, as lambs to the slaughter, up a flight of dirty stone
stairs, to see the bedrooms.

"You will have our best, is it not, Madame la Comtesse?" inquired the
man of the hotel, who seemed to be a cross between a manager and a
head-waiter, and who swelled with politeness behind a shirt-front that
resembled nothing so much as the ten of clubs. "Yes, I was sure of
that, gracious madame. You and your suite may assure yourselves that you
will be placed in our _chambres de luxe_."

With this announcement, he thre