"
"Olivia! My child! Miss Holland--," began the lawyer.
The prince spoke tranquilly.
"It is precisely this errand," he said, "that has brought me to
America. Do you not see that, in the event of your father's failure
to return to his people, you will eventually be Queen of Yaque?"
St. George found himself looking fixedly at Mrs. Hastings' false
front as the only reality in the room. If in a minute Rollo was
going to waken him by bringing in his coffee, he was going to
throttle Rollo--that was all. Olivia Holland, an American heiress,
the hereditary princess of a cannibal island! St. George still
insisted upon the cannibal; it somehow gave him a foothold among the
actualities.
"I!" cried Olivia.
Mrs. Hastings, brows lifted, lips parted, winked with lightning
rapidity in an effort to understand.
St. George pulled himself together.
"Your Highness," he said sternly, "there are several things upon
which I must ask you to enlighten us. And the first, which I hope
you will forgive, is whether you have any direct proof that what
you tell us of Miss Holland's father is true.
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