e the old fogies in the cabinet, who,
if they go out, will never enter another again. You have a future, and
though you may not be an emperor, you may be what I esteem more, prime
minister of this country."

"You are always so sanguine."

"Not more sanguine than your sister. Often we have talked of this. I
wish she were here to help us, but I will do my part. At present let us
go to luncheon."

CHAPTER XCIV

There was a splendid royal yacht, though not one belonging to our
gracious Sovereign, lying in one of Her Majesty's southern ports, and
the yacht was convoyed by a smart frigate. The crews were much ashore,
and were very popular, for they spent a great deal of money. Everybody
knew what was the purpose of their bright craft, and every one was
interested in it. A beautiful Englishwoman had been selected to fill a
foreign and brilliant throne occupied by a prince, who had been educated
in our own country, who ever avowed his sympathies with "the inviolate
island of the sage and free." So in fact there was some basis for
the enthusiasm which was felt on this occasion by the inhabitants of
Nethampton. What every one wanted to know was when she would sail. Ah!
that was a secret that could hardly be kept for the eight-and-forty
hours preceding her departure, and therefore, one day, with no formal
notice, all the inhabitants of Nethampton were in gala; streets and
ships dressed out with the flags of all nations; the church bells
ringing; and busy little girls running about with huge bouquets.

At the very instant expected, the special train was signalled, and drove
into the crimson station amid the thunder of artillery, the blare of
trumpets, the beating of drums, and cheers from thousands even louder
and longer than the voices of the cannon. Leaning on the arm of her
brother, and attended by the Princess of Montserrat, and the Honourable
Adriana Neuchatel, Baron Sergius, the Duke of St. Angelo, the Archbishop
of Tyre, and Lord Waldershare, the daughter of William Ferrars,
gracious, yet looking as if she were born to empire, received the
congratulatory address of the mayor and corporation and citizens
of Nethampton, and permitted her hand to be kissed, not only by his
worship, but by at least two aldermen.

They were on the waters, and the shores of Albion, fast fading away, had
diminished to a speck. It is a melancholy and tender moment, and Myra
was in her ample and splendid cabin and alone. "It is a trial," s