is all mine," says he, just as if he meant every word of it.

"Ahem!" says the Consul, kind of steadying himself against the curtains.
"Perhaps it would be best, before anything more is said on this subject,
for the Princess to have a talk with my wife. We'll take her home."

Well, they settled it that way and I was mighty glad to get her off our
hands so easy.

Next afternoon the Consul shows up at our ranch as gay as an up-state
deacon who's seeing the town incog.

"Sir," says he to the Boss, givin' him the right hand of fellowship,
"you're a real gent. After what you did last night I'm proud to know
you; and I'm happy to state that it's all off with the Princess."

Then he went on to tell how Miss Padova, being out of her latitude,
hadn't got her book straight. She'd carried away the notion that when a
Princess went out of her class she had a right to sign on any chap that
she liked the looks of, without waitin' for him to make the first move.
They did it that way at home. But when the Consul's wife had explained
the United States way, and how the Boss was a good deal of a rooster
himself, with real money enough to buy up a whole rink full of Dago
princes, why Miss Padova feels like a plush Christmas box at a January
sale. She turns on the sprinkler, wants to know what they suppose the
Boss thinks of her, and says she wants to go back to It'ly by the next
trolley.

"But she'll get over feeling bad," says the Consul. "We'll ship her back
next Friday, and you can take it from me that the incident is closed."

I was lookin' for the Boss to open a bottle or two on that. But he
didn't. For a pleased man he held in well.

"Poor little girl!" says he, looking absent minded towards the Bronx.
Then he cheers up a minute. "I say, do you mind if I run up and see her
once before she sails?"

"You may for all of me," says the Consul, "but if you'll listen to my
advice you won't go."

He did though, and lugged me along for a chaperone, which is some out of
my line.

"I'm afraid they've rather overdone the explaining business," says he on
the way up; and while I had my own idea as to that, I had sense enough,
for once, not to butt in.

That was an ice house call, all right. They left us on the mat while our
cards went up, and after a while the hired girl comes down to give us
the book-agent glare.

"Th' Missus," says she, "says as how the young lady begs to be 'xcused."

"Does the young lady know we're here?" says