The Prince wore sky-blue trimmed with sable, and brightened with silver facings; tunic and trousers of an extremely tight fit set off a muscular frame. From his shoulders, presumably in case of accident, hung an extra tunic; but the other extra did not show. Boots reaching to the thighs and a head-dress of almost equal height borne upon the arm, completed the splendor of his array. Bowing his way in, he had so martial an air that the Queen's heart was quite won by it, and she regretted that Charlotte, belated in her attendance, had not been there to see. The Prince uttered with correctness, though in a rather heavy German accent, the formula of royal greeting; and throughout the interview continued to speak in Jingalese. As soon as the doors were closed--leaving only royalty, he dropped into homelier speech. "I hope the cure has done you no harm," he said, "that it has not too greatly diverted your digestion; some people are much upset by it." The King and Queen hastened to reassure him. Bad-as-Bad, its air, its waters, and its society had treated them in the handsomest way possible. "We are quite sorry," said the Queen, "that so soon we shall have to leave." The Prince glanced round before asking abruptly: "And the Princess--she is still here?" "She will be here presently," answered the Queen, "I am expecting her any moment. She goes on long walks," she added, by way of explanation. "Ah, good!" commented the Prince. Many minutes went by, conversation alternately flowed and halted. They were all conscious of an impediment, for still the Princess did not appear; and at last her Majesty was impelled to send one of her ladies to make inquiry. "She takes such very long walks," explained the Queen once more. "Ah, good, very good indeed," remarked the Prince in a spirit of acceptance. And then, after a little more waiting, the lady came back to say that the Princess could not be found; she and one of her ladies had gone out together. "How very forgetful of her!" exclaimed the Queen. Just then, very discreetly, but with a look full of meaning, a private secretary came and put a telegram into the King's hand. Excusing himself to the Prince he opened it; it was postmarked from the station office at Schnapps, and it read thus-- "I have gone home. Charlotte." It was no use; the surprise of it was too much for him. "She has run off!" he ejaculated; the compromising phrase had slipped out before he was aware. "Who?" cried his wife, though knowing quite well. "Charlotte; she has gone home." Husband and wife stared at each other mute and amazed; while the Prince sat trying with amiable look to excuse himself for being there. Then the Queen did her best to cover matters; but it was not a great success. "I knew that she wanted to get home," she murmured. "And she is so impulsive; sometimes there is no holding her at all." "I must apologize," said the King. "This is really quite unaccountable."