"I am _overwhelmed_!" whispered Ann a little later. "I am _indeed_! I was not in the _least_ aware that our mysterious incognito was a prince, were you, Diane?" "Yes," said Diane. Her color was very high and she deliberately avoided the imploring eyes of Mr. Poynter. "What in the _world_ is it all about?" begged Ann helplessly. "And _who_ was the grayish monk who flitted about so mysteriously telling us that the minstrel was a _prince_! It spread like wildfire. As for you, Philip Poynter, it's exactly like you! To depart night before last and suddenly reappear is _quite_ of a piece with your mysterious habit of fading periodically out of civilization. Baron Tregar, how _exceedingly_ delightful of you to come this way and surprise me when I fancied you were so keen about those horrid tarpon that you wouldn't leave them for all I _wrote_ and _wrote_." There was a sprightly nervousness in Ann's manner. She was uncomfortably aware of a subtle undercurrent. "And I've another unexpected guest," she added to Diane. "Carl's here. Wandering in from Heaven knows where, as he always does. He's making his peace with your aunt--" Herodotus, who had been trying for some time to get into friendly communication with his lady, suddenly murmured "Frost in Florida!" with audible regret and moved off good-humoredly to look for Carl. He found that young man listening attentively to his aunt's reproaches. "And that costume, Carl," fluttered Queen Elizabeth in aggrieved disapproval. "Why, dear me, it's enough to make a body shudder, it's so sort of sinister--it is indeed! And I do hope you don't set your hair on fire with that extraordinary light in your turban. Is it a candle or an electric bulb?" "A forty horse power glowworm!" Carl assured her gravely, and the portly Jethro sniggered to the danger of his seams. Philip's hand came down heavily upon the Palmer's broad shoulder and Carl wheeled. In that instant as he grasped Philip's hand in a silence more eloquent than words, every finer instinct of his queerly balanced nature flashed in his face. The two hands tightened and fell apart. "Come, smoke!" invited Carl, smiling. "I'm glad you're here. I haven't been ragged and abused for so long there's a lonely furrow in my soul." But Dick Sherrill, looking very warm and disgruntled in a costume he informed them bitterly was meant for Claude Duval, came up as they were turning away and insisted upon presenting Carl to the guest of the evening.