"People used to say that the gold making was _all vanity and lying divination_, but the Government asked Mr. Brand if he would mind being taxed. He said he mustn't be taxed too much or he would go over to the United States, but he didn't mind paying for the fleets, and armies, and things." "Do you know what taxes Lyonesse pays now?" said my Lord. "Brand pays over a hundred million pounds a year in Imperial taxes alone. Besides that he has to give all Governments a big profit on their coinages--and that amounts to millions a year saved to the tax-payers of the world. Goodness only knows how rich the man is. I suppose----" Miss Temple, who hated interruptions, turned briskly to Mrs. Osbourne. "Now, my dear pet," she said, "I hope James doesn't bore you?" "Oh no, dear Miss Temple, I'm quite used to it. My Jack, you know, is on the Stock Exchange." "Now where was I?" asked Miss Temple. "Oh yes, the city of Lyonesse. Well, that was named after the place where King Arthur came from when he was washed up. Merlin the sorcerer, you know, was fishing, and caught Arthur; and afterwards when Arthur didn't die, you know, but went away to be healed of his grievous wound by the Three Queens in one barge--well, I forget exactly how it was, but anyway King Arthur went to Lyonesse, wherever that is. And some day he's to come back and save England. Lyonesse, the real place I mean, has grown, until now it has any amount of people (and they do say that the co-operative stores are ridiculously cheap and most fashionable), and it's been the saving of England. Now John Brand II. is buried there--cremated, I mean--and John Brand III. reigns in his stead. Is it true, Sydney, that he's a woman hater?" "Jack says he's a beast," was Mrs. Osbourne's comment; "but then Jack has lost a lot himself on Lyonesse Branch Industrials." "_Lay not up for yourselves treasures on the earth_," said the governess, fiercely. "I wonder if it is finance which has worried my poor Margaret." "No, Miss Temple," Sydney launched his bombshell. "My father is going to force our Lady to marry the Grand Swine Alexander." "That horrible story again! Oh, James!" "Yes, again, Miss Temple. Can you wonder now why she wears black, and sits in her penance-room envying the sparrows?" "I must go to her," cried Miss Temple, rising, in great disorder. "My child! My poor child! Let me pass, Lord Sydney." But the Guardsman barred her passage. "Her Majesty," he said, "is engaged." Sydney turned upon the little lady in boy dress. "Mrs. Osbourne." "Oh, you made me jump!" "These matters, Mrs. Osbourne, are secret." She rose, drawing on her gauntlets. "Of course," she twittered, "I would never dream--wild horses couldn't----" "They wouldn't be so rude, dear lady. But is it true that there are rumours on 'Change?"