"Come," cried Margaret, insisting; "what does he see now—snakes?"
"They've grown, madam," Browne grinned. "He's having a fight with sea-serpents."
"I'd rather amuse the Queen," said my Lord. "My story is better than that."
"A story!" Now Margaret clapped her hands with a gay little laugh. "Once upon a time—go on, I like my fairies as naughty as can be, and mind, plenty of fairies."
"There's only one fairy left." Sydney looked away across the sunlit lake. "Romance is dead, and there's nothing to tell the fairy Queen but grim, sordid, horrible tragedy."
"He's awfully tired, madam," said Browne. "Why, we've had more fun these last three days than——"
"Let Browne begin." My Lord looked up with a smile. "I do believe he'll make it a fairy tale."
"Why, Trooper Browne!" our Lady laughed. "This after all your headlong adventures in Canada! Then London is not so tame and dull as you thought?"
"Dull! Mother will be standing on her head when she knows that I've made friends with the Marquess of Sydney, and actually spoken to the very Queen herself. Me!"
"You dear boy,"—Margaret unfastened her bracelet;—"when you see your mother, give her this with my love. There now, tell me the story."