"I
often forget that I am any older than she. She never
tires of hearing stories of George's scrapes or his queer
sayings when he was a child. Such stories, I think, are
usually tedious, but George was a peculiar boy."
Mr. Perry's search for notorieties took him also to
Scotland, and, oddly enough, Prince Wolfburgh's search
for amusement led him in the same direction. They met
him and his cousin, Captain Odo Wolfburgh, at Oban, and
again on the ramparts of Stirling Castle, and the very
day that they arrived in Edinburgh, there, in Holyrood,
in Queen Mary's chamber, stood the pursy little man,
curling his mustache before her mirror.
Mr. Perry fell into the background with Miss Hassard.
"His Highness is becoming monotonous!" he grumbled.
"These foreigners never know when they are superfluous in
society."
"Is he superfluous?" Jean glanced to the corner where the
prince and Lucy were eagerly searching for the blood of
Rizzio upon the steps.
"Decidedly," said Perry. "I wished to show you and Miss
Dunbar a live prince, and I did it. That is done and
over with. He has been seen and heard. There is no
reason why he should pop up here and there all over Great
Britain like a Jack-in-the-box. He's becoming a bore."
"You suspect him to be an impostor?" said Jean quickly.
"No. He's genuine enough. But we don't want any
foreigners in our caravan," stroking his red beard
complacently.
"No. What do you suppose is his object?" asked Jean,
with one of her quick, furtive glances.
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