serves her kingdom, it's
Princess Carmel; it's only one in a thousand who could have done what
she has."

Carmel, indeed, though an unacknowledged sovereign, had managed to win
all hearts at the Chase. Even Lilias did not now resent the ownership of
one who so rarely urged her own claims; insensibly she had grown fond of
her cousin, and liked her company.

The summer holiday promised to be as pleasant as that of last Christmas.
Mr. Stacey, who had taken his vacation in June and July, had returned to
Cheverley in time to greet Roland, Bevis, and Clifford, a welcome state
of affairs to Cousin Clare, for the three lively boys were almost beyond
her management, and needed the kindly authority which the tutor knew so
well how to wield without friction. All sorts of plans for enjoyment
were in the air, a visit to the sea, a motor tour, a garden party, a
tennis tournament, a cricket match, even a dance at the Chase, when one
day something quite unexpected occurred, something which changed the
entire course of events, and threw the thoughts of the holiday makers
into a new channel. Like many extraordinary happenings, it came about
in quite an ordinary way.

Carmel had left her despatch case at school--a small matter, indeed, but
fraught with big consequences. As she wanted some convenient safe spot
in which to deposit note paper, old letters, sealing wax, stamps, and
other such treasures, Cousin Clare allowed her to take possession of a
writing-desk which stood on the study table. It had belonged to old Mr.
Ingleton, and he had indeed used it till the day before his death, but
it had been emptied of its contents by Mr. Bowden, and was now placed
merely as an ornament in the window. It was a large, old-fashioned desk
of rosewood, handsomely inlaid with brass, and lined with purple velvet.
Carmel seized upon it joyfully, and began to transfer some of her many
belongings to its hospitable depths. It was well fitted, for there was
an ink-pot with a silver top, and a pen-box containing a seal and a
silver pen. Mr. Bowden had left these when he removed the papers,
probably considering them as part and parcel of the desk. Carmel lifted
out the ink-pot to admire its cover, but, though it came out fairly
easily, it was a difficult matter to fit it in again. In pushing it back
into its place she pulled heavily upon the small wooden division between
its socket and the pen-box. To her utter surprise, her action released a
spring, a long