she liked you very much," he said. "She told me she
liked you because you were quiet and melancholy. Oh Lord, though, she
likes everyone, I suppose! I believe I'd have a better chance with her
if I hadn't always known her. I'm afraid that this damn Italian--I beg
your pardon, Ansolini!--"

"Ah, no," I answered. "It is sometimes well said."

"I'm afraid his picturesqueness as a Kentucky Colonel appeals to her too
much. And then he is new to her--a new type. She only met him in Paris,
and he had done some things in the Abyssinian war--"

"What is his rank?" I asked.

"He's a prince. Cheap down this way; aren't they? I only hope"--and Poor
Jr. made a groan--"it isn't going to be the old story--and that he'll be
good to her if he gets her."

"Then it is not yet a betrothal?"

"Not yet. Mrs. Landry told me that Alice had liked him well enough to
promise she'd give him her answer before she sailed, and that it was
going to be yes. She herself said it was almost settled. That was just
her way of breaking it to me, I fear."

"You have given up, my friend?"

"What else can I do? I can't go on following her, keeping up this play
at second cousin, and she won't have anything else. Ever since I grew up
she's been rather sorrowful over me because I didn't do anything but try
to amuse myself--that was one of the reasons she couldn't care for
me, she said, when I asked her. Now this fellow wins, who hasn't done
anything either, except his one campaign. It's not that I ought to have
her, but while I suppose it's a real fascination, I'm afraid there's
a little glitter about being a princess. Even the best of our girls
haven't got over that yet. Ah, well, about me she's right. I've been a
pretty worthless sort. She's right. I've thought it all over. Three days
before they sail we'll go down to Naples and hear the last word, and
whatever it is we'll see them off on the 'Princess Irene.' Then you and
I'll come north and sail by the first boat from Cherbourg.

"I--I?" I stammered.

"Yes," he said. "I'm going to make the aged parent shout with unmanly
glee. I'm going to ask him to take me on as a hand. He'll take you, too.
He uses something like a thousand Italians, and a man to manage them
who can talk to them like a Dutch uncle is what he has always needed. He
liked you, and he'll be glad to get you."

He was a good friend, that Poor Jr., you see, and I shook the hand
that he offered me very hard, knowing how great would have