"I can't see anything wonderful about it," said Miss Guile, fixing the ex-governess with a look that seared.
"We were speaking of this rumoured engagement of the Prince of Graustark and—er—what's the name?" He glanced at his newspaper. "Miss Blithers, of course. I enquired of Mrs.—er—Gaston if she happens to know the young lady. She remembers seeing her frequently as a very small child."
"In Paris," said Mrs. Gaston. "One couldn't very well help seeing her, you know. She was the only child of the great Mr. Blithers, whose name was on every one's lips at the—"
Miss Guile interrupted. "It would be like the great Mr. Blithers to buy this toy prince for his daughter—as a family plaything or human lap-dog, or something of the sort, wouldn't it?"
Mr. Totten betrayed no emotion save amusement. Miss Guile was watching through half-closed eyes. There was a noticeable stiffening of the prim figure of Mrs. Gaston.
"I've no doubt Mr. Blithers can afford to buy the most expensive of toys for his only child. You Americans go in for the luxuries of life. What could be more extravagant than the purchase of a royal lap-dog? The only drawback I can suggest is that the Prince might turn out to be a cur, and then where would Mr. Blithers be?"
"It is more to the point to ask where Miss Blithers would be, Mr. Totten," said Miss Guile, with a smile that caused the fierce old warrior to afterwards declare to Dank that he never had seen a lovelier girl in all his life.
"Ah, but we spoke of the Prince as a lap-dog or a cur, Miss Guile, not as a watch-dog," said he.
"I see," said Miss Guile, after a moment. "He wouldn't sleep with one eye open. I see."
"The lap of luxury is an enviable resting-place. I know of no prince who would despise it."