Rupert and Teuta come and sit with me sometimes in the evening when we are all too tired to work, and they rest themselves by talking matters over.

Rupert says that there will be over five hundred reporters, and that the applications for permission are coming in so fast that there may be a thousand when the day comes.

Last night he stopped in the middle of speaking of it, and said: "I have an inspiration! Fancy a thousand journalists,--each wanting to get ahead of the rest, and all willing to invoke the Powers of Evil for exclusive information! The only man to look after this department is Rooke.

He knows how to deal with men, and as we have already a large staff to look after the journalistic guests, he can be at the head, and appoint his own deputies to act for him.

Somewhere and sometime the keeping the peace will be a matter of nerve and resolution, and Rooke is the man for the job." We were all concerned about one thing, naturally important in the eyes of a woman: What robes was Teuta to wear?
In the old days, when there were Kings and Queens, they doubtless wore something gorgeous or impressive; but whatever it was that they wore has gone to dust centuries ago, and there were no illustrated papers in those primitive days.