King John of Jingalo | Page 8

When did you hear
about it?"
"Only yesterday; but it has been going on a long time."
"I suppose," sighed his Majesty, "I suppose one couldn't expect it to be
otherwise. Well, I must speak to him, then; and we shall really have to
get him married to somebody. The religious difficulty, of course,
narrows our choice most unfortunately; and when we happen to be on
bad terms both with Germany and England, through trying to be
friendly to both, why, really there is hardly anybody left."
"I hear," remarked the Queen, "that the Hereditary Prince of
Schnapps-Wasser is returning from his three years' exploration of
central South America this autumn. Wouldn't he be worth thinking
about?"
"You mean for Charlotte? But I expect he will be wanted at the
Prussian Court."
The Queen shook her head. "Oh, no! He is out of favor there. They
have never forgiven him his description of the Kaiser's oratorio as
'Moses Among the Crocodiles.' That is why I thought he might not be
averse to looking in our direction. He used to be a nice boy; he is
handsome according to his portraits, and Charlotte is not without her
taste for adventure."
"That doesn't solve the problem about Max," said his Majesty
discontentedly. "And, by the way, where is Charlotte?"

"She has gone to stay with Lady--oh, I have forgotten her name--the
one who had a fancy for history and took a diploma in it. They are
opening that new college for women, with a Greek play all about the
Trojans, and Charlotte particularly wanted to go."
"H'm?" queried the King; "rather an advanced set for Charlotte to
consort with--just now, I mean,--don't you think? There might be some
of those Women Chartists among them."
"Oh, no!" replied her Majesty; "they are all quite respectable,--ladies
every one of them. I took care to make inquiries about that."
And then, quite contentedly, she made a final gathering of her
correspondence, and sailed off for a preliminary interview with her two
indispensable secretaries; while the King, selecting three out of the pile
of newspapers, carried them away with him to his study. There was a
sentence in one of them which he particularly wanted to read again.
And with this vacating of the breakfast-chamber we may as well close
the chapter.
CHAPTER II
ACCIDENTS WILL HAPPEN

I
The sentence which had attracted the King's attention, coming as it did
from the newspaper on whose opinions he most frequently relied, ran
thus--
"In this developing crisis the Nation looks with complete and loyal
assurance to him who alone stands high and independent above all
parties, confident that when the time for a final decision has arrived he
will so act, within the recognized limits of the Royal Prerogative, as to
add a fresh luster and a renewed significance to that supreme symbol
and safeguard of the popular will which, under Divine Providence, still

crowns our constitutional edifice."
The King read it three times over. He read it both standing and sitting:
and read in whatever attitude it certainly sounded well. As a peroration
its rhythm and flow were admirable, as a means of keeping up the
courage and confidence of readers who placed their reliance mainly
upon literary style nothing could be better; but what, by all that was
constitutional, did it mean?--or rather, how did it mean that he, the high
and independent one, was to do it? Point by point its sentiments were
unexceptionable; but what it actually pointed to he did not know. "Add
luster?" Why, yes, certainly. But was not that what he was already
doing day by day on the continuous deposit system, even as the oyster
within its shell deposits luster upon the pearls which a sort of hereditary
disease has placed within its keeping? "Renewed significance?" But in
what respect had the significance of the royal office become obscured?
Was anything that he did insignificant? "Symbol and safeguard of the
popular will?" Yes: if his Coronation oath meant anything. But how
was he, symbol and safeguard and all the rest of it, to find out what the
popular will really was? No man in all the Kingdom was so much cut
off from living contact with the popular will as was he!
The King was in his study, the room in which most of the routine work
of his daily life was accomplished--a large square chamber with three
windows to one side looking out across a well-timbered park toward a
distant group of towers. But for those towers, so civic in their character,
it might well have been taken for a country view; scarcely a roof was
visible.
Upon a large desk in the center of the chamber lay a pile of official
letters and documents awaiting his perusal; and