'And grandada--but it will not so much matter if we are alone, though,' Janet said. 'Speak out.' 'See the princess as well; she must be present.' 'I leave it to you,' he said, crestfallen. Janet pressed my aunt Dorothy's hand. 'Aunty, you were right, you are always right. This state of suspense is bad all round, and it is infinitely worse for the prince and princess.' My aunt Dorothy accepted the eulogy with a singular trembling wrinkle of the forehead. She evidently understood that Janet had seen her wish to get released. For my part, I shared my grandfather's stupefaction at their unaccountable changes. It appeared almost as if my father had won them over to baffle him. The old man tried to insist on their sitting down again, but Janet perseveringly smiled and smiled until he stood up. She spoke to him softly. He was one black frown; displeased with her; obedient, however. Too soon after, I had the key to the enigmatical scene. At the moment I was contemptuous of riddles, and heard with idle ears Janet's promptings to him and his replies. 'It would be so much better to settle it here,' he said. She urged that it could not be settled here without the whole burden and responsibility falling upon him. 'Exactly,' interposed my father, triumphing. Dorothy Beltham came to my side, and said, as if speaking to herself, while she gazed out of window, 'If a refusal, it should come from the prince.' She dropped her voice: 'The money has not been spent? Has it? Has any part of it been spent? Are you sure you have more than three parts of it?' Now, that she should be possessed by the spirit of parsimony on my behalf at such a time as this, was to my conception insanely comical, and her manner of expressing it was too much for me. I kept my laughter under to hear her continue: 'What numbers are flocking on the pier! and there is no music yet. Tell me, Harry, that the money is all safe; nearly all; it is important to know; you promised economy.' 'Music did you speak of, Miss Beltham?' My father bowed to her gallantly. 'I chanced to overhear you. My private band performs to the public at midday.' She was obliged to smile to excuse his interruption. 'What's that? whose band?' said the squire, bursting out of Janet's hand. 'A private band?' Janet had a difficulty in resuming her command of him. The mention of the private band made him very restive. 'I 'm not acting on my own judgement at all in going to these foreign people,' he said to Janet. 'Why go? I can have it out here and an end to it, without bothering them and their interpreters.' He sang out to me: 'Harry, do you want me to go through this form for you?--mn'd unpleasant!' My aunt Dorothy whispered in my ear: 'Yes! yes!'