ah, it is out of the question, out of the question!"

"It is difficult," said the prince patiently, "most difficult for me
to make myself intelligible to you--as difficult, if you will
forgive me, as if you were to try to explain calculus to one of the
street boys outside. But directly your phase of civilization has
opened to you the secrets of the Fourth Dimension, much will be
discovered to you which you do not now discern or dream, and among
these, Yaque. I do not jest," he added wearily, "neither do I expect
you to believe me. But I have told you the truth. And it would be
impossible for you to reach Yaque save in the company of one of the
islanders to whom the secret is known. I can not explain to you, any
more than I can explain harmony or colour."

"Well, I'm sure," cried Mrs. Hastings fretfully, "I don't know why
you all keep wandering from the subject so. Now, my brother Otho--"

"Prince Tabnit,"--Olivia's voice never seemed to interrupt, but
rather to "divide evidence finely" at the proper moment--"how long
will it take us to reach Yaque?"

St. George thrilled at that "us."

"My submarine," replied the prince, "is plying about outside the
harbour. I arrived in four days."

"By the way," St. George submitted, "since your wireless system is
perfected, why can not we have news of your island from here?"

"The curve of the earth," explained the prince readily, "prevents.
We have conquered only those problems with which we have had to
deal. The curve of the earth has of course never entered our
calculation. We have approached the problem from another
standpoint."

"We have much to do, Prince Tabnit," said Olivia; "when may we
leave?"

"Command me," said Prince Tabnit, bowing.

"To-morrow!" cried Olivia, "to-morrow, at noon."

"Olivia!" Mrs. Hastings' voice broke over the name like ice upon a
warm promontory. Mrs. Hastings' voice was suited to say "Keziah" or
"Katinka," not Olivia.

"Can you go, Mr. Frothingham?" demanded Olivia.

Mr. Frothingham's long hands hung down and he looked as if she had
proposed a jaunt to Mars.

"My physician has ordered a sea-change," he mumbled doubtfully, "my
daughter Antoinette--I--really--there is nothing in all my
experience--"

"Olivia!" Mrs. Hastings in tears was superintending the search for
both side-combs.

"Aunt Dora," said Olivia, "you're not going to fail me now. Prince
Tabnit--at noon to-morrow. Where shall we meet?"

St. George listened, glowing.