g to catch Miss Destrey's sympathies.

"Why, Prince," the Countess exclaimed in a loud tone, calculated to
reach the ears of any neighbouring royalties, and let them see that she
was as good as they were. "Why, Prince, if you're not always surprising
people! I thought you were staying another day with the Duke of Messina,
in Monte Carlo."

"Told you so!" my eyebrows--such as they are--telegraphed to Terry. "He
_has_ been away; only just back; pantomime demon act."

"I found myself homesick for Cap Martin," returned the Prince, with an
emphasis and a sweeping glance which made a present of the compliment to
the woman, the girl, and the child.

"Humph," I sneered into the iced water; "lost all he'd got with him, and
the money-lenders turned crusty; that's when the homesickness came on."

"Well, now you're here, do sit down and have lunch with us," said Mrs.
Kidder, "unless"--archly--"your homesickness has destroyed your
appetite."

"If it had, the pleasure of seeing you again would restore it;" and once
more the Austrian's gaze assured each one of the three that she alone
was the "you" referred to.

A nod and a gesture whisked a couple of attentive waiters to the table,
and in the twinkling of an eye--even an American eye--a place was laid
for the Prince, with duplicates of all our abortive wine glasses.

"Aha, my fine fellow, _you_ are no friend of cold water," I said to
myself in savage glee, as I acknowledged with a bow Mrs. Kidder's
elaborate introduction. "You will suffer even more than we have
suffered." But I reckoned without a full knowledge of the princely
character.

History repeated itself with an invitation to the new guest to choose
what he liked from the wine card. I looked for a courteous refusal,
accompanied by some such gallant speech as, that he would drink to the
ladies only with his eyes; but nothing of the kind happened. He searched
the list for a moment with the absorption of a connoisseur, then
unblushingly ordered a bottle of Romanee Conti, which wine, he
carelessly announced, he preferred to champagne, as being "less
obvious." The price, however, would be pretty obvious on Mrs. Kidder's
bill, I reflected; seventy francs a bottle, if it were a penny. But did
this coming event cast a shadow on the Prince's contentment? On the
contrary, it probably spangled its fabric with sequins. He sniffed the
wine as if it had been an American Beauty rose, and quaffed it
ecstatically, while Terry and I