asions.

But until now, Nikky had never forgotten. He had been the soul of
remembering, indeed, and rather more than punctual. Prince Ferdinand
William Otto consulted his watch. It was of gold, and on the inside was
engraved:

"To Ferdinand William Otto from his grandfather, on the occasion of his
taking his first communion."

"It's getting rather late," he observed.

Miss Braithwaite looked troubled. "No doubt something has detained him,"
she said, with unusual gentleness. "You might work at the frame for your
Cousin Hedwig. Then, if Captain Larisch comes, you can still have a part
of your lesson."

Prince Ferdinand William Otto brightened. The burntwood photograph
frame for Hedwig was his delight. And yesterday, as a punishment for the
escapade of the day before, it had been put away with an alarming air of
finality. He had traced the design himself, from a Christmas card, and
it had originally consisted of a ring and small Cupids, alternating with
hearts. He liked it very much. The Cupids were engagingly fat. However,
Miss Braithwaite had not approved of their state of nature, and it had
been necessary to drape them with sashes tied in neat bows.

The pyrography outfit was produced, and for fifteen minutes Prince
Ferdinand William Otto labored, his head on one side, his royal tongue
slightly protruded. But, above the thin blue smoke of burning, his
face remained wistful. He was afraid, terribly afraid, that he had been
forgotten again.

"I hope Nikky is not ill," he said once. "He smokes a great many
cigarettes. He says he knows they are bad for him."

"Certainly they are bad for him," said Miss Braithwaite. "They contain
nicotine, which is a violent poison. A drop of nicotine on the tongue of
a dog will kill it."

The reference was unfortunate.

"I wish I might have a dog," observed Prince Ferdinand William Otto.

Fortunately, at that moment, Hedwig came in. She came in a trifle
defiantly, although that passed unnoticed, and she also came
unannounced, as was her cousinly privilege. And she stood inside the
door and stared at the Prince. "Well!" she said.

Prince Ferdinand William Otto was equal to the occasion. He hastily drew
out his pocket-handkerchief and spread it over the frame. But his face
was rather red. A palace is a most difficult place to have a secret in.

"Well?" she repeated; with a rising inflection. It was clear that
she had not noticed the handkerchief incident. "Is there to be no
r