nside the doors he paused.

"And I thought you were Miss Guggenslocker," he said. She laughed with
the glee of a child who has charmed and delighted through surprise.

"Am I not a feeble mite to sit on that throne and rule all that comes
within its reach?" She directed his attention to the throne at the
opposite end of the hall. "From its seat I calmly instruct gray-haired
statesmen, weigh their wisdom and pass upon it as if I were Demosthenes,
challenge the evils that may drive monarchs mad, and wonder if my crown
is on straight."

"Let me be ambassador from the United States and kneel at the throne,
your Highness."

"I could not engage in a jest with the crown my ancestors wore, Mr.
Lorry. It is sacred, thou thoughtless American. Come, we will draw
nearer that you may see the beauty of the workmanship in that great old
chair."

They stood at the base of the low, velveted stage on which stood the
chair, with its high back, its massive arms and legs ashimmer in the
light from the lofty windows. It was of gold, inlaid with precious
stones--diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires and other wondrous
jewels--a relic of ancient Graustark.

"I never sit in the center. Always at one side or the other, usually
leaning my elbow on the arm. You see, the discussions are generally
so long and dreary that I become fatigued. One time,--I am ashamed to
confess it, I went to sleep on the throne. That was long ago. I manage
to keep awake very well of late. Do you like my throne room?"

"And to think that it is yours!"

"It is this room that gives me the right to be hailed with 'Long live
the Princess!' Not with campaign yells and 'Hurrah for Yetive!' How does
that sound? 'Hurrah for Yetive!'" She was laughing merrily.

"Don't say it! It sounds sacrilegious--revolting!"

"For over three years--since I was eighteen--I have been supreme in that
chair. During the years of my reign prior to that time I sat there with
my Uncle Caspar standing beside me. How often I begged him to sit down
with me! There was so much room and he certainly must have grown tired
of standing. One time I cried because he frowned at me when I persisted
in the presence of a great assemblage of nobles from Dawsbergen. It
seems that it was a most important audience that I was granting, but I
thought more of my uncle's tired old legs. I remember saying, through my
sobs of mortification, that I would have him beheaded. You are to guess
whether that startling thr