"What are you anxious to say about me that can't wait till breakfast?" I asked. "_Those men_ will be at breakfast," said he. "They are in the position of your couriers, yet they put themselves forward, as if on an equality with me. I do not find that conducive to conversation." "Mamma asked Maida yesterday whether it was better to be an Austrian prince, or an English baronet?" said I. "Sir Ralph Moray's a baronet." "So he says," sneered the Prince. "Oh, he is. Mamma looked him out in Burke the very day I found you were thirty-nine in the Almanach de Gotha." "Anybody can be a baronet. That is nothing. It is a mere word." "It's in three syllables, and 'prince' is only in one. Besides, Austrians are foreigners, and Englishmen aren't." "Is that what Miss Destrey said to your Mamma?" "No, because Mamma's a foreign Countess now, and it might have hurt her feelings. Maida said she felt more at home with a plain mister--like Mr. Barrymore, for instance; only he's far from plain." "You consider him handsome?" "Oh, yes, we all do." "But I think you have not known him and Sir Ralph Moray for long. Your Mamma has not mentioned how she met them, but from one or two things that have been dropped, I feel sure they are in her employ--that she has hired them to take you about in their very inadequate car; is it not so?" "I'll ask Mamma and tell you what she says, if you'd like me to," I replied. "No, no, dear child, you are too literal. It is your one fault. And I find that you are all three too trusting of strangers. It is a beautiful quality, but it must not be carried too far. Will you not let me be your friend, Miss Beechy, and come to me for advice? I should be delighted to give it, for you know what an interest I take in all connected with you. There! Now you have heard what I followed you out especially to say. I hoped that this would be a chance to establish a confidential relationship between us. _Voulez-vous, ma chere petite?_" "What kind of a relationship shall we establish, exactly?" I asked. "You say you don't want to be my Papa." "If I were your Papa, I should be dead." "If you were my brother, and the age you are now, Mamma might as well be dead." "Ah, I would not be your brother on any consideration. Not even your step-brother; though some step-relationships are delightful. But your Mamma is too charming--you are _all_ too charming, for my peace of mind. I do not know how I lived before I met you." I thought that the money-lenders perhaps knew; but there are some things even little Beechy can't say. "Your Mamma must have great responsibilities for so young a woman," he went on, while I pruned and prismed. "With her great fortune, and no one to guard her, she must often feel the weight of her burden too heavy for one pair of shoulders." "One can always spend one's fortune, and so get rid of the burden, if it's too big," said I. The Prince looked horrified. "Surely she is more wise than that?" he exclaimed.