Tony nodded. "Nearly all exiled monarchs are addicted to drink. They find it necessary to keep up their enthusiasm." "But it wasn't only a question of drinking in father's case," went on Isabel. "People wouldn't have minded that very much; you see they are so used to it in Livadia. It was the way he quarrelled with everyone afterwards that spoilt his chances. At one time he had almost as big a following as the King, but after a bit most of them gave him up as hopeless. Then someone started the idea of a Republic. It was quite a small party at first, but people drifted into it gradually from both sides until in the end it was the strongest of the three. Father wouldn't give up for a long time. He was a frightfully obstinate man, and I don't think he knew what it meant to be afraid. That was one of his best points. He kept on until nearly everyone who stuck to him had been killed, and then at last he got badly wounded himself, and only just managed to escape over the frontier." "And what were you doing all this crowded time?" inquired Tony. "I," said Isabel, "oh, I was living in Paris with my governess, Miss Watson." "What--the missing lady of Long Acre?" Isabel nodded. "She looked after me for fifteen years. You see, father had spent a good deal of time in London when he was young, and he always said that English women were the only ones you could trust because they were so cold. So when my mother died, he engaged Miss Watson and put me in her charge altogether." "Judging by the results," observed Tony, "it seems to have been a happy choice." "She's a dear," said Isabel with enthusiasm, "an absolute dear. I don't know what I should have been like without her, because father always insisted on his own people treating me as if I was a real princess, and we never saw any one else. If it hadn't been for her, I should probably have believed everything they told me." She paused for a moment as though reflecting on this narrow but fortunate escape, and then straightening herself in the seat, she added: "I was really quite happy until Uncle Philip sent her away." "Is Uncle Philip our impetuous friend of Richmond Park?" inquired Tony. "That's him," said Isabel, with a queenly disregard for grammar. "He is my mother's brother, and his real name is the Count de Sé. He came to live with us in Paris after father was wounded. He is a nasty, mean, hateful sort of man, but father liked him because he was the only person left who treated him like a king. Poor father was nearly always drunk in those days, and I don't think he really knew what he was doing. Uncle Philip used to talk to him and flatter him and all that sort of thing, and at last he got father to make a will appointing him as my guardian. The very first thing he did, as soon as father died, was to send away Miss Watson." "I don't think I like Uncle Philip," said Tony. "I am glad I pushed him off the car."