o inconsiderable following among the deputies.

But John Tullis was not in Edelweiss for the purpose of meddling with
state affairs. He was there because he elected to stand mentor to the
son of his life-long friend, even though that son was a prince of the
blood and controlled by the will of three regents chosen by his own
subjects. He was there to watch over the doughty little chap, who one
day would be ruler unrestrained, but who now was a boy to be loved and
coddled and reprimanded in the general process of man-making.

To say that the tiny Prince loved his big, adoring mentor would be
putting it too gently: he idolised him. Tullis was father, mother and
big brother to the little fellow in knickers.

The American was a big, broad shouldered man, reddish haired and ruddy
cheeked, with cool grey eyes; his sandy mustache was closely cropped and
turned up ever so slightly at the corners of his mouth. Despite his
colouring, his face was somewhat sombre--even stern--when in repose. It
was his fine, enveloping smile that made friends for him wherever he
listed, with men and with women. More frequently than otherwise it made
more than friends of the latter.

One woman in Graustark was the source of never-ending and constantly
increasing interest to this stalwart companion to the Prince. That woman
was, alas! the wife of another man. Moreover, she was the daughter of
the Duke of Perse.

The young and witty Countess of Marlanx came often to Edelweiss. She was
a favourite at the Castle, notwithstanding the unhealthy record of her
ancient and discredited husband, the Iron Count. Tullis had not seen
the Count, but he had heard such tales of him that he could not but
pity this glorious young creature who called him husband. There is an
old saying about the kinship of pity. Not that John Tullis was actually
in love with the charming Countess. He was, to be perfectly candid, very
much interested in her and very much distressed by the fact that she was
bound to a venerable reprobate who dared not put his foot on Graustark
soil because once he had defiled it atrociously.

But of the Countess and her visits to Edelweiss, more anon--with the
indulgence of the reader.

At present we are permitted to attend a meeting of the cabinet, which
sits occasionally in solemn collectiveness just off the throne room
within the tapestried walls of a dark little antechamber, known to the
outside world as the "Room of Wrangles." It is ten o'clo