n to the lake," said Beechy, "so I persuaded
the others to come too; but we never dreamed you were in a motor-boat,
or whereabouts you were, till we _saw_ you."

I felt myself get as red as fire; though, when one comes to think of it,
I am my own mistress, and Beechy can't keep me from doing anything that
I've made up my mind to do.

"This boat belongs to a friend of the Prince's," I explained. "We were
trying it when it broke down, and he has been examining the motor."

"So I noticed," remarked Beechy. "I guess you're a little near-sighted,
aren't you, Prince?"

He did not answer her, but explained to Mr. Barrymore the cause of the
accident, and asked to be towed into harbour.

Of course, my evening was spoiled. I tried to laugh it off and say how
Providential it was they had come to our rescue; but though I kept
telling myself every minute that there was no need for me to mind
Beechy, I dreaded meeting her alone. However, the evil moment wouldn't
be put off forever, and she came along the balcony from her window to
mine when I had shut myself up in my bedroom.

I expected her to fly out at me, but her manner was the same as usual.

"Want me to undo your frock behind, Mamma?" she asked.

Then, when she had got me half unhooked: "Tell me what the Prince said
when he proposed."

"He didn't propose," said I.

"If he didn't I shall ask Sir Ralph to call him out. He'd no business
kissing your hands unless he'd proposed."

I was surprised at this attitude. But it made me feel confidential. "He
hadn't had a chance," I volunteered. "He was just going to, when the
search-light--"

"--Searched. Lucky for you the interruption came at the right moment."

"Why? I thought--"

"Because it saved you the pain of refusing him."

"But, Beechy darling, I don't think I was going to refuse him."

"Don't you? Well, I do. I'm sure of it."

"Dearest, if you wouldn't look at me in that square-chinned way! It's so
like your poor Papa."

"I'm Papa's daughter. But I don't intend to be Prince Dalmar-Kalm's
step-daughter."

I began to cry a little. "Why do you always try to thwart me when I want
to be happy?" I asked.

"That isn't fair to say. Look at my short dress and my hair in pigtails.
There's proof enough of what I'm ready to do to make you happy. I let
you be a Countess, and you may be a Princess if you can _buy_ the title,
but no Princes on this ranch!"

My blood was up, and I determined to fight. "Beechy," I excla