the other. I did the duty of a good
cicerone by pointing out the fountains, trees and other objects of
interest which Lalage and Hilda were sure to see for themselves. When we
had exhausted the Avenida I suggested going on to Belem. Lalage did not
seem pleased. She said that driving was not her idea of pleasure. She
wanted something more active and exciting. I agreed.

"We'll go in a tram," I said.

"Where to?"

"Belem."

"Belem's a church, isn't it, Hilda?"

Hilda and I both admitted that it was.

"Then we can't go there," said Lalage decidedly.

"Why not?" I ventured to ask.

"You said yourself that it wouldn't be decent."

"Oh!" I said, "you're thinking of those poor bishops; but you haven't
done anything to the Portuguese patriarch yet. Besides, only half of
Belem is a church. The other half is a school, quite secular."

"The only things I really want to see," said Lalage, "are the dead
Portuguese kings in glass cases."

"The what?"

"The dead kings. Stuffed, I suppose. Do you mean to say you've been here
nearly four years and don't yet know the way they keep their kings,
like natural history specimens in a museum? Why, that was the very first
thing Hilda found out in the guide book."

"I didn't," said Hilda. "It was you."

"Let's credit Selby-Harrison with the discovery," I said soothingly. "I
remember now about those kings. But the exhibition has been closed to
the public now for some years. We shan't be able to get in."

"What's the use of being an ambassador," said Lalage, "if you can't
step in to see a dead king whenever you like?"

An ambassador may be able to claim audiences with deceased royalties,
but I was not an ambassador. I offered Lalage as an alternative the
nearest thing at my command to dead kings.

"The English cemetery," I said, "is considered one of the sights of
Lisbon. If you are really interested in corpses we might go there."

"I hate Englishmen," said Lalage. "All Englishmen."

"That's why I suggested their cemetery. It will be immensely gratifying
to you to realize what a lot of them have died. The place is nearly full
and there are lots of yew trees."

Lalage did me the honour of laughing. Hilda, after a minute's
consideration, also laughed. But they were not to be distracted from the
dead kings.

"We'll go back to the hotel," said Lalage, "and rout out poor Pussy.
She'll be wanting more food by this time. You can go and call on the
present King or the Queen Mot