“Beg pardon, sir,” he pleaded in an accent which would have meant imprisonment for him if heard on the streets outside, “but these here barbarians likes a bit of colour, sir. I understands as how the Emperor calls the Ambassador the ‘undertaker,’ sir, and it’s all on account, sir, of his not a-having any lace on his coat, sir. Don’t you think you might wear some of your Colonial Society medals and decorations, sir?” and he tried hard to hide his contempt for these American signs of alleged aristocracy. “There is some as is bright in colour, sir, and he wouldn’t know, sir, but as how you is a duke in America, sir.” “None of that nonsense, James, unless,” he said with a quizzical look, “you give me the copy of the Golden Fleece, which shows that I am a member in good standing of the South Chicago Aero Club.” “Not that one, sir,” protested James, “if you will pardon me, sir, I think it is a bit large, sir, for the waistcoat opening, sir. I think, sir, that the Order of the Cincinnati is very neat, sir. It is very much like one of the Greek Orders, I don’t recall which, sir, but Lord Knott wore it once, I recall, sir, when the King of Greece was in London, sir.” “No, James,” Edestone shook his head. “My father was a blacksmith, and I would not like to deceive the Emperor.” “How you do like your little joke, sir,” said James, putting his hand to his mouth. “Won’t you just use that button, sir, instead of a buttonhole? It ain’t so frivolous like, sir, begging your pardon, sir.” “Oh well, yes; just to keep you quiet.” “Thank you, sir.” And Edestone left the room. CHAPTER XXIV DER KAISER Downstairs, the household was in a state of suppressed excitement. The German men servants, without the usual protection of a brilliant uniform, looked as if they would like to drop everything and hide themselves in the coal cellar. The maids were almost on the verge of tears. Mrs. Jones, with all the jewelry on that she possessed, was moving about with a flushed face seeing that everything was in order. “For Heaven’s sake, hurry up, Jack,” she said. “We must have a short dinner and be ready when the Emperor arrives. As for myself, I never can touch anything for hours before I meet him. He scares me almost out of my wits.” Her husband was walking up and down with the expression of a man who is the speaker of the evening, watching the waiters serving coffee and passing cigars. The only persons who seemed perfectly at their ease were Lawrence and his Bowery boy valet, Fred, who were holding a very serious conversation in the corner of the hall.