"Oh, sire," said Mrs. Russell, "spare him!" "His Majesty" took her hand, pressed it, and held it in his. "Dearest cousin," said he, "ye ax impossibilities. Law is an' must be shuprame. Even now the coort is deciding. But in any evint, even the worst, ye have a frind in us--constant, tinder, an' thrue; in any evint, no matther what, moind ye, I won't forgit. Niver, niver! I'll be thrue to me word. Permit us to laymint that we had not met ye befoor the late--that is, befoor John Russell obtained this hand. Nay, dhrop not that beaucheous head, fair one. Let the r'y'l eye gaze on those charrums. Our r'y'l joy is to bask an' sun ourselves in the light av loveliness an' beauty." The strain in which "His Majesty" spoke was certainly high-flown and perhaps extravagant, yet his intention was to express tenderness and sympathy, and to Mrs. Russell it seemed like a declaration made to her, and expressive of much more. She felt shocked, it is true, at the word "late" applied to her unfortunate husband by "His Majesty," yet the words which followed were not without a certain consolation. "Oh, that it were possible," continued "His Majesty," "for some of us in this room to be more to one another! Oh, that some one here would allow us to hope! Let her think av all that we could do for her. She should be the sharer av our heart an' throne. Her lovely brow should be graced by the crown av Spain an' the Injies. She should be surrounded by the homage av the chivalry av Spain. She should fill the most dazzlin' position in all the worruld. She should be the cynosure av r'y'l majistic beauty. She should have wealth, an' honors, an' titles, an' dignities, an' jools, an' gims, all powered pell-mell into her lap; an' all the power, glory, moight, majisty, an' dominion av the impayrial Spanish monarchy should be widin the grasp av her little hand. What say ye, me fair one?" All this florid harangue was uttered for the benefit of Katie, and, as he spoke, "His Majesty" kept his eyes fixed on her, hoping that she would respond by some glance or sign. Yet all the time that he was speaking he was unfortunately holding the hand of Mrs. Russell, who very naturally took all this proposal to herself. "His Majesty's" language had already seemed to convey the information that her husband had passed away from earth, and was now the "late" John Russell; and much as she might mourn over the fate of one so dear, still it could not be but that the devotion of one like "His Majesty" should touch her sensitive heart. So when these last words came, and brought what seemed to her like a direct appeal, she was deeply moved. "What say ye, me fair one?" repeated "His Majesty" with greater earnestness, trying to catch Katie's eye. Mrs. Russell's eyes were modestly bent downward on the floor. She clung to the royal hand. "Oh, sire!" she murmured. "Oh, Your Royal Majesty! I am thine--yours forever--I cannot refuse!" And flinging her arms about him, her head sank upon his shoulder.