"Looks like he gwine to hab a fit. I gib de chile a good warm bath, if I's you," suggests Victoria.
Miss Helena eagerly catches at the straw.
"That's a good idea, Victoria. Just fill the little foot-tub with hot water, and bring it right in here."
Victoria hurries off to get the bath, and the Professor, seized with a new idea for the explanation of the mystery, goes to his study to search his dictionary for "daykumboa" in some dead or living language.
The foot-tub is brought, and the aunts proceed to undress his Highness, whereat he waxes wroth. They persist; there is a frightful howl, a struggle, and the tub of hot water is very vigorously overturned among the photographs, scissors, and eatables that strew the floor. The Professor, in alarm, comes tearing in, a book in each hand. At that moment a patter as of small feet is heard in the hall, and a little figure with flying golden locks darts into the room.
Ralph rushes into her arms in a kind of ecstasy, crying, "Oh, daykumboa! daykumboa!"
"What is it that Ralph is saying, Daisy?" eagerly asks Miss Helena, in the lull that follows. "He has been wanting daykumboa all the afternoon."
"He says, 'Daisy come back,'" answers the little girl. "That's what you wanted—wasn't it, Ralphie?"
"Es, me ont daykumboa," assents his Highness.
The Professor regards his niece with humble admiration not unmixed with awe, and retires to his study to lay his dictionaries by. Victoria rolls her eyes ceilingward, and says, "Well, I declar'!" then falls to work picking up the ruins of their various offerings, and the two ladies turn to help her after a little silent astonishment.