And so that side of the frame in which that woman appeared to one down the perspective of the great Allee was not permanent.

That morning when Mr.Blunt had to escort his mother there for the gratification of her irresistible curiosity (of which he highly disapproved) there appeared in succession, at that woman's or girl's bridle-hand, a cavalry general in red breeches, on whom she was smiling; a rising politician in a grey suit, who talked to her with great animation but left her side abruptly to join a personage in a red fez and mounted on a white horse; and then, some time afterwards, the vexed Mr.Blunt and his indiscreet mother (though I really couldn't see where the harm was) had one more chance of a good stare.

The third party that time was the Royal Pretender (Allegre had been painting his portrait lately), whose hearty, sonorous laugh was heard long before the mounted trio came riding very slowly abreast of the Blunts.

There was colour in the girl's face.

She was not laughing.