very eminent in his profession. He had
an army of cutters and stitchers under him. He was not a tailor, but
a Merchant Tailor, and, moreover, he was a member of the Merchant
Tailors' Association, and a man of enormous wealth.

"Sure to glory," ejaculated "His Majesty," as Mrs. Russell paused for
breath, "I knowed it was just that. It makes all the differ in the
worruld whether a man's only a tailor wid a small 't' or a Merchant
Tailor wid capital letters."

"We keep our own carriage," continued Mrs. Russell, bridling and
tossing her head, "and we have our own coat of arms and crest--the
Russell arms, you know, the same as the Duke of Bedford."

"'Dade!" said "His Majesty," "so ye have the Russell arrums. I'm
acquainted wid His Grace the Juke av Bedford. I seen him in Paris.
He's a conniction av me own in a distant way, an' so you too must be
a conniction in a distant way, being a mimber av the House av
Russell."

"Oh, sire! Oh yes--may it please Your Gracious Majesty--yes, I dare
say I am. Oh yes." Mrs. Russell was quite overcome at the royal
condescension.

"Sure," continued "His Majesty," "we r'y'l personages always
acknowledge our cousins. You're a cousin av mine, a distant one, it's
thrue, but degrays don't count wid us. Wanst a cousin, alwavs a
cousin."

"Ah, sire!"

"I niver knowed that ve were a cousin befoor," said "His Majesty,"
"or else I'd saluted ye in our r'y'l fashion, just as our cousin
Quane Victoria did whin she acknowledged the Imperor Napoleon. It's
our way to acknowledge relationship wid the r'y'l kiss. We call it
the Kiss av State. Allow me, cousin."

And before the astounded Mrs. Russell understood his intention, "His
Majesty" put his arm round her waist, and gave her a sounding smack,
which seemed to Katie like the report of a pistol.

This was altogether too much for poor Katie. She had almost lost
control of herself several times already, but now it was impossible
to maintain it any longer, and she went off into a wild burst of
laughter. It proved contagious. Dolores caught it, and clung to
Katie, burying her face against her, and half hiding it behind her.

"His Majesty" dropped his "cousin" as though he had been shot, and,
turning round, regarded the two young ladies for some minutes in
silence, while Mrs. Russell sat rigid with horror at this shocking
irreverence. But in the royal eye, as it rested on Katie, there was a
merry twinkle, until at length the contagion seized upon "H