y, sir; but that
is the way they talk history nowadays. It has ceased to be decorous. I
am afraid Paris is largely responsible. You see, we have an Emperor in
the next block, two Kings in the Avenue Victor Hugo, and a fugitive
ex-President in the Hotel Metropole. I have seen the whole lot, even our
noble selves, burlesqued in a Montmartre review. And I laughed! That is
the worst part of it. I roared! We looked such a funny crew. And we were
all jolly hard up, borrowing five-franc pieces from one another, and
offering to sell scepters at a ridiculous sacrifice. That came rather
near home. We haven't got what the storybooks calls an embarrassment of
riches, have we? So, a cup of tea, please, mother, and I'll hear the
Czar's edict. It is pending. I can see it in his eye."

Usually Prince Michael responded to that sort of airy nonsense. When
sure of his audience, he had spoken much more disrespectfully of the
Parisian band of Kings in exile. But to-day his chubby cheeks refused to
crease in a grin. He remained morose, oracular, heavy jowled. In fact,
he had set himself a very difficult task. Now that the moment had
arrived for its fulfilment, he shirked it.

"May I ask, Alec, if you have any scheme in view?" he said, strutting on
the hearthrug in front of a grate filled with ferns. He always stood
there,--in winter because it was warm, and he was a martyr to
chilblains; in summer because of the habit contracted in winter.

"Well, sir, candidly speaking, I have not. But I saw in a newspaper the
other day a paragraph of advice to a young man. 'No matter how small
your income may be, live within it: that is the beginning of wealth,' it
said. How profound! I applied it to myself. My income is nil. There I
encountered a serious obstacle at the very start of the Great Money
Stakes. But----"

"This is a grave discussion, Alec. I have that to say which may pain
you. Pray be serious."

"Oh, I am--quite serious. My ponies and the dogcart are in Dumont's
catalogue for the next sale. I resigned my membership of the polo club
to-day. To-morrow, or eke to-night, I look for a job. As you, mother o'
mine, have heard men say in your beloved west, I'm going to butt in."

"I--er--suppose you--er--look to me for some assistance?" coughed Prince
Michael.

His wife rose. Her face was gray-white, her eyes blazed. "Alec knows we
are poor. Why torture him--and me? I refuse to allow it. I refuse!" Her
voice took a tragic note, thin and shril