"You have set me a hard task, to describe him would take too much thought for an old man, mademoiselle; but I may tell you that he is not ugly, and possesses certain good qualities."
"He is a good King, and--messieurs, you have told me your names, and courteously refrained from asking me for mine. I am Princess Irma, eldest daughter of the King of Bornia."
"Your Royal Highness has our homage and thanks," said Mr. Neville, bowing.
"Ah, please no ceremony, forget my rank, and just think of me as the girl you so bravely saved. But I had to tell you."
As for myself, I was too astonished to say a word, my longing for romance had indeed been answered with a vengeance; but it had placed me in rather a queer position, for I could not now retain my incognito with any feelings of satisfaction: it would hardly be honourable. I must tell her, of course, but it was not the thought of that which made my blood course so strongly through my veins, it was a gust of sheer delight that I had at last met one whom I could treat as an equal, who could be my companion and whom, if it was so willed, I could learn to love. My eyes swept over her perfect figure as she turned from Mr. Neville to me. Her carriage was magnificent, with the grace and dignity which became a Princess, and the womanly charm and sweetness which became her sex; her whole expression was radiant with youth and the joy of living.
"Princess, I must crave forgiveness for having deceived you. I told you my name was Victor Stevens, I am----"
"King Victor II. of Rudarlia. Your Majesty must think me strangely obtuse, to have imagined that a shaven moustache could hide his identity."
And this delightful girl went off into a peal of laughter, in which after a moment Mr. Neville and myself joined.
"Your eyes are too keen, Princess," I said.
"I knew your Majesty's face so well that I recognised you almost immediately."