aying that it sounded very
old-fashioned, and she amended it by hurriedly remarking that, anyhow,
she would soon be tired of resting and glad to get on again.

"That must be Cuneo, now," said Mr. Barrymore, pointing to a distant
town which seemed to grow suddenly up out of the plain, very important,
full of vivid colours, and modern looking after the strange, ancient
villages we had passed on the way.

When we got out of the train Joseph was on the platform, more depressed
than ever, but visibly brightening at sight of Mr. Barrymore, for whom
he evidently cherishes a lively admiration; or else he regards him as a
professional brother.

What happened to the two automobiles, I don't know, for we didn't stop
to see. Sir Ralph had a hurried consultation with Mr. Barrymore, and
then said that he would take us up to the hotel in a cab, with all our
luggage.

There wasn't room for the Prince in our ramshackle old vehicle, and he
took another, being apparently very anxious to arrive at the hotel
before us. He spoke to his driver, who lashed the one poor nag so
furiously that Maida cried out with rage, and they flashed past us, the
horse galloping as if Black Care were on his back. But something
happened to the harness, and they were obliged to stop; so we got ahead,
and reached the wide-arcaded square of the hotel first after all.

It was quite a grand-looking town, for a middle-sized one, but Mamma
drew back hastily when she had taken a step into the hall of the hotel.
"Oh, we can't stop here!" she exclaimed. "This must be the worst instead
of the best."

With that several little men in greasy dress-coats, spotted shirts, and
collars so low that you could see down their necks, sprang forward and
bowed very humbly, like automata. "May I have the extreme honour of
asking if it is her very high grace, Madame the Countess Dalmar and
suite who felicitate our humble hotel with their presence?" inquired the
fattest and spottiest in one long French breath.

Mamma drew herself up to her full height, which must be at least five
feet three, heels included. I don't know exactly what it is to bridle,
but I'm sure she did it. She also moistened her lips and smiled with
both dimples.

"Wee, wee, jay swee Countess Dalmar," she admitted, leaving her suite to
account for itself.

"Then I have here a telegram for madame," went on the man, giving her a
folded paper which, with an air, he drew forth from an unspeakable
pocket.

Mamma