ay? What
will be the fate of the rest of us, after this?"

"Why, you poor foolish boy, you needn't scold and go on so. I don't
believe he's dead any more than you are. I believe that "His Majesty"
only said it in fun. In fact, he never did actually say so."

Harry sighed a sigh of perplexity.

"But, you know," continued Katie, "Mrs. Russell went and got it into
her poor old head. Oh, she's very, very imaginative, poor dear old
auntie, and she would have it so. And she thinks that all the
speeches which "His Majesty" makes at me are intended for her."

"The wretched creature!" said Harry; "to speculate upon her husband's
death, and think of such a thing as marriage."

"Oh, but she says that it is not love that makes her think of it, but
State policy."

"State fiddlesticks!"

"She says that Mary Queen of Scots married Bothwell after her
husband's murder, from motives of State policy."

"Oh, good heavens!" said Harry, whose sense of honor and loyalty and
affection, and even of common decency, was utterly outraged at such a
revelation; "and she always seemed such a quiet, good, well-meaning
sort of a person."

"But she means well now," said Katie. "She says her marriage is to be
for the good of Spain and the world generally."

At this Harry was silent. He could find no more words to express his
feelings. Besides, although all the words, ejaculations, and
exclamations above reported were uttered with as much caution and in
as low a tone as were consistent with his excited feelings, still,
they made more noise than was wise under the circumstances, and there
were signs that some of the sleepers were restless. These, at last,
attracted the attention of the two and interrupted their
conversation.

Several heavy sighs from a remote corner of the room showed that some
one was awake, or waking, and this warning forced them to keep
silence for some time. At length all was still, and Harry ventured to
speak again.

"Oh, Katie," said he, "can't you do something with that wretched
woman?"

"No," said Katie. "I'm sure all I say only makes her worse. She wants
me now to address her as 'Your Majesty!'"

"She's mad," said Harry; "the woman's utterly mad!"

"Well, she's got some great secret now which she won't tell. As 'His
Majesty' was leaving, the last time, he kept up some very mysterious
whisperings with her. I've been teasing her all day to tell me what
they were, but in vain. She's as close as the grave. A great