"Now, Irene, be quite good. Not even a smile." The Princess held up a finger of mock imperiousness. "Dis is most serious. Shall I tell you now, or shall I to-morrow tell you?"
"Oh, please, please," piped Mrs. Arbuthnot, "please tell me at once. Is it those absurd Republicans?"
"Oh no, my child; it is something much more interesting. My father is on his way to England."
In sheer exultation Mrs. Arbuthnot gave a little leap into the air.
"O-oh!" she gasped.
"Think of it, my child! The royal and august one coming to this funny little island, where everything is according to Perrault. He is coming with old Schalk."
"O-oh!" gasped Mrs. Arbuthnot.
"You don't know Schalk. Wait till you have seen Schalk and then you will die. He will kill you quite. He looks like dis, and he walks so."
Her Royal Highness made a face that was really comic and took a few steps across the carpet in imitation of Schalk going to the House of Deputies.
"Are they really coming?"