The girl laughed softly.
“Poor old dad,” she exclaimed. “I guess it’s selfish of me to drag you all across Europe to this little bit of a country, but I couldn’t help it a bit. I positively must see Ughtred with a crown on his head and a sceptre in his hand before we go back. It’s too delicious. Now I wonder how we ought to let him know that we are here.”
“Telephone!”
She laughed again—laughed till the tears stood in her eyes.
“Father, you must try to be more mediæval,” she exclaimed. “Fancy ringing up a king!”
“Send a boy round with a note then,” he suggested, “or shall I stroll round to the palace and let them know? I’d just as soon. It’s only a few minutes’ walk.”
“I will write,” she decided, “but there is no hurry. We will go out for a walk presently and look at these dear, quaint little shops. There are heaps of things I want to buy.”
Mr. Van Decht rose suddenly from his chair.
“Jehosophat!” he cried. “What’s that?”