The Slim Princess | Page 8

as a
personal favor to me, don't be fat."
"No fear of that," said the girl with a melancholy attempt at a smile.
"But you must go and join the others. Do, please. I am now in disgrace,
and you may compromise your social standing in Morovenia if you

remain here and talk to me."
"I dare say I should go. I have a husband who requires as much
attention and scolding as a four-year-old. Sometimes I almost favor the
oriental system of the husband's directing the wife. Good-by."
"Good-by."
Mrs. Plumston gave her a kiss and a friendly little pat on the arm, and
walked away toward the stables with a swinging, heel-and-toe,
masculine stride.
Kalora had the whole garden to herself. She sat squared up in the
wicker chair with her fists clenched, looking straight ahead, trying in
vain to think of some plan for avenging herself upon the whole race of
bachelors. As she sat thus some one spoke to her.
"How do you do?" came a voice.
She was startled and looked about, but saw no one.
"Up here!" came the voice again.
She looked up and saw a young man on the top of the wall, his legs
hanging over. Evidently he had climbed up from the outside, and yet
Kalora had never suspected that the wall could be climbed.
[Illustration: "Up here!" came the voice again]
He was smoothly shaven, with blond hair almost ripe enough to be
auburn; he wore a gray suit of rather loose and careless material, a belt,
but no waistcoat; his trousers were reefed up from a pair of
saddle-brown shoes, and the silk band around his small straw hat was
tricolored. In his hand was a paper-covered book. Swung over his
shoulder was a camera in a leather case. He sat there on top of the high
wall and gazed at Kalora with a grinning interest, and she, forgetting
that she was unveiled and clad only in the simple garments which had
horrified the best people of Morovenia, gazed back at him, for he was

the first of the kind she had seen.
"What are you doing here?" she asked wonderingly.
"I am looking for the show," he replied. "They told me down at the
hotel that a very hot bunch of acrobats were doing a few stunts down
here this afternoon, and I thought I'd break in if I could. Wanted to get
some pictures of them."
"Were you invited?"
"No, but that doesn't make any difference. In Cairo I went to a native
wedding every day. If I passed a house where there was a wedding
being pulled off, I simply went inside and mingled. They never put me
out--seemed to enjoy having me there. I suppose they thought it was
the American custom for outsiders to ring in at a wedding."
"You said American, didn't you? Are you from America?"
"Do I look like a Scandinavian? I am from the grand old
commonwealth of Pennsylvania. Did you ever hear of the town of
Bessemer?"
"I'm afraid not."
"Did you ever hear of the Pike family that robbed all the orphans, tore
down the starry banner, walked on the humble working-girl and gave
the double cross to the common people? Did you?"
"Dear me, no," she replied, following him vaguely.
"Well, I am Alexander H., of the tribe of Pike, and I have two reasons
for being in your beautiful little city. One is Federal grand jury and the
other is ten-cent magazine. You know, our folks are sinfully rich.
About four years ago I came in for most of the guvnor's coin, and in
trying to keep up the traditions of the family, I have made myself
unpopular, but I didn't know how unpopular I really was until I got this
magazine from home this morning." And he held up the paper-covered

book, which had a rainbow cover. "They have been writing up a few of
us captains of industry, and they have said everything about me that
they could say without having the thing barred out of the mails. I notice
that you speak our kind of talk fairly well, but I think I can take you by
the hand and show you a lot of new and beautiful English language. I
will read this to you."
Before she could warn him, or do anything except let out a horrified
"Oh-h!" he had leaped lightly from his high perch and was standing in
front of her.
"I'm afraid you don't understand," she said, rising and taking a
frightened survey of the garden, to be sure that no one was watching.
"Strangers are not permitted in here. That is, men, and more
especially--ah--Christians."
"I'm not a Christian, and I can prove it by this magazine. I am an