"Well, it hasn't been very bad, but yesterday and to-day we've pretended we didn't want any lunch, because we knew how things were with—"
"Never mind," said the man with something like a groan, "I only wanted to know on account of the orders."
Then, to the porter, "Ask the conductor to step here."
"The Golden Crown Opera Company have been delayed here," he said, when that official appeared, "and I want them to take this special train to Washita. Put the whole party in my private car. Tell the engineer he must make extra time to get them there at six-thirty. Telegraph ahead for a clear track, and to Casstown for supplies, so that dinner may be served in this car. When the train is reacły to start step over to the station and tell the company that the train for Washita is waiting. And be sure that everything is done to make them comfortable. I will follow on the regular express."
As the conductor withdrew, the Great Man found himself suddenly caught in the embrace of what seemed a small-sized tornado. "You really mean it?" cried the child, half sobbing. "We're not going to disband, after all! Oh, I was sure from the beginning that you were a really, truly king, even if you didn't wear a crown and velvet robes. But," with a sudden clouding of her face, "you won't go away just when the Queen's coming?"
"Well, you see, the fact is," said the Great Man, setting the Princess carefully in the depths of the Turkish chair, "these meetings with royalty are so unusual for me that I feel hardly prepared for another one the same day. So I think I'll follow in a common car. And in the morning I'll ask for a private audience with the Queen."
