highest bidder.

He went on, full of trouble.

Olga, the wardrobe woman, was also on her way to the Opera, which faced
the park. She also saw the carriage, and at first her eyes twinkled. It
was he, of course. The daring of him! But, as the carriage drew nearer,
she bent forward. He looked pale, and there was a wistful droop to his
mouth. "They have punished him for the little prank," she muttered.
"That tight-faced Englishwoman, of course. The English are a hard race."
She, too, went on.

As they drew near the end of the park, where the Land of Desire towered,
Prince Ferdinand William Otto searched it with eager eyes. How wonderful
it was! How steep and high, and alluring! He glanced sideways at Miss
Braithwaite, but it was clear that to her it was only a monstrous
heap of sheet-iron and steel, adorned with dejected greenery that had
manifestly been out too soon in the chill air of very early spring.

A wonderful possibility presented itself. "If I see Bobby," he asked,
"may I stop the carriage and speak to him?"

"Certainly not."

"Well, may I call to him?"

"Think it over," suggested Miss Braithwaite. "Would your grandfather
like to know that you had done anything so undignified?"

He turned to her a rather desperate pair of eyes. "But I could explain
to him," he said. "I was in such a hurry when I left, that I'm afraid I
forgot to thank him. I ought to thank him, really. He was very polite to
me."

Miss Braithwaite sat still in her seat and said nothing. The novelty of
riding in a royal carriage had long since passed away, but she was aware
that her position was most unusual. Not often did a governess, even of
good family, as she was, ride daily in the park with a crown prince. In
a way, on these occasions, she was more royal than royalty. She had, now
and then, an inclination to bow right and left herself. And she guarded
the dignity of these occasions with a watchful eye. So she said nothing
just then. But later on something occurred to her. "You must remember,
Otto," she said, "that this American child dislikes kings, and our sort
of government." Shades of Mr. Gladstone--our sort of government! "It
is possible, isn't it, that he would resent your being of the ruling
family? Why not let things be as they are?"

"We were very friendly," said Ferdinand William Otto in a small voice.
"I don't think it would make any difference."

But the seed was sown in the fertile ground of his young mind, to bear
qui