Frances explained that they were to be driven home and Mrs. Trott pressed tea and wonders upon Edith, who accepted both gratefully.
"Is it far to the Manor—to where Mr. Max is going?" Frances inquired of Mrs. Trott.
"Not for a good horse, Miss, though 'tis beyond St. Aubin's. I'm thinking you must have marked the place, a big old stone house with many a laurel tree about it and open to the cliffs beyond."
"Oh, we know it," said Fran eagerly. "There are iron gates with a coat of arms and the grounds are lovely."
"That's Laurel Manor, Miss," assented Mrs. Trott.
The girls looked at each other in delight. In one afternoon they had learned where lived the mistress of the beach dog and what her name.
"'Tis good to lay eyes on Mr. Max again," Mrs. Trott went on. "A pity he and Miss Connie couldn't content themselves with each other. 'Tis not to our liking to have our young leddy takin' up with a foreign prince."
"Oh, please tell us about it," demanded Frances. "We met Miss Connie on the beach and we think she's perfectly lovely. Is she really to marry a prince?"
"He's not a prince of a royal house," replied Mrs. Trott. "He's an
Eyetalian and in that country, they tell me, there's a different kind
of royalty. I don't rightly know, Miss, but I'm thinking they are
Romish princes."
"Is Miss Connie marrying a Catholic?" inquired Edith in great interest.