und everything clear from the lookout.

"Oh, all clear," said Stair, and sat down to make a pretence of
breakfasting. But he could not keep his eyes from wandering in the
direction of Julian Wemyss, who, seated in the great chair between the
window and the fire, was presently bending his brows over the packet he
had received. Eight sheets of a fine and light handwriting like that of
the address--from the Princess Elsa, of that there could be no question.
Julian read on and on, wrapped up in the daintily written words,
unconscious of the thick enclosure on paper like parchment, which had
slipped down on the floor of the Bothy. Stair could see the huge black
downstrokes of the superscription. He stopped eating and began to clear
away.

Julian looked up from his reading at the sudden clattering of pottery.

"Hold there," he said, "it is my day--you must not forget. I claim my
rights."

But Stair continued with a smile to prepare for that part of the work
which is the curse of every bachelor menage--the washing-up after.

"I think," he said quietly, "that you will have enough to do with your
correspondence--I take everything upon me for to-day. Your pardon, Mr.
Wemyss, but I am afraid you have dropped something!"

"Ah, so I have--it is nothing--I am much obliged to you."

He spoke the truth. It was nothing to him--what, indeed, could be
anything in comparison with those eight closely written sheets of large
letter paper from his Princess--only the half of which he had yet
mastered. Elsa of Saxe-Brunschweig had never written him so long a
letter since the day when they agreed, long ago in Vienna, that for the
good of her house and country she must marry the old duke-elector.

So it came to pass that Julian Wemyss was grateful to Patsy for bringing
him such good fortune. Nor was he surprised out of measure when he heard
that his niece had the offer of the hand of a Prince reigning in his own
right.

But better than any one else, Julian could measure the greatness of the
Prince's affection, because he knew what these royal and grand ducal
persons think of their order. He saw that it was in some sort a defiance
flung at the court of Austria, which Eitel of Altschloss had served so
bravely, and which had done nothing for the young captain of horse till
he found himself suddenly pistoned into a princedom.

Before going further he read the Prince's letter. It was in German, and
most courteously expressed. Julian Wemyss