“It’s he—at last,” whispered Polynesia—“late, as usual. Poor man, how he does work!—Chee-Chee, get the pipe and tobacco out of the cupboard and lay the dressing-gown ready on his chair.” When the Doctor came into the room he looked serious and thoughtful. Wearily he took off his crown and hung it on a peg behind the door. Then he exchanged the royal cloak for the dressing-gown, dropped into his chair at the head of the table with a deep sigh and started to fill his pipe. “Well,” asked Polynesia quietly, “how did you find the baby?” “The baby?” he murmured—his thoughts still seemed to be very far away—“Ah yes. The baby was much better, thank you—It has cut its second tooth.” Then he was silent again, staring dreamily at the ceiling through a cloud of tobacco-smoke; while we all sat round quite still, waiting. “We were wondering, Doctor,” said I at last,—“just before you came in—when you would be starting home again. We will have been on this island seven months to-morrow.” The Doctor sat forward in his chair looking rather uncomfortable. “Well, as a matter of fact,” said he after a moment, “I meant to speak to you myself this evening on that very subject. But it’s—er—a little hard to make any one exactly understand the situation. I am afraid that it would be impossible for me to leave the work I am now engaged on.... You remember, when they first insisted on making me king, I told you it was not easy to shake off responsibilities, once you had taken them up. These people have come to rely on me for a great number of things. We found them ignorant of much that white people enjoy. And we have, one might say, changed the current of their lives considerably. Now it is a very ticklish business, to change the lives of other people. And whether the changes we have made will be, in the end, for good or for bad, is our lookout.” He thought a moment—then went on in a quieter, sadder voice: