"Immensely," said the Count. "It is rarely played so well."     

       Mr. Blithers affected a most degage manner, squinting carelessly at the Prince.     

       "That young chap plays a nice game. Who is he?"     

       The two Graustarkians stiffened perceptibly, and waited for King to make the revelation to his visitor.     

       "That's Prince Robin of—" he began but Mr. Blithers cut him short with a genial wave of the hand.     

       "Of course," he exclaimed, as if annoyed by his own stupidity. "I did hear that you were entertaining a Prince. Slipped my mind, however. Well, well, we're coming up in the world, eh?—having a real nabob among us." He hesitated for a moment. "But don't let me interrupt the game," he went on, as if expecting King to end the contest in order to present the Prince to him.     

       "Won't you sit down, Mr. Blithers?" said Mrs. King. "Or would you prefer a more comfortable chair on the porch? We—"     

       "No, thanks, I'll stay here if you don't mind," said he hastily, and dragged up the camp chair that Lieutenant Dank had been occupying.     

       "Fetch another chair, Lucas," said King to the servant. "And another glass of lemonade for Miss Felton."     

       "Felton?" queried Mr. Blithers, sitting down very carefully on the rather fragile chair, and hitching up his white flannel trousers at the knees to reveal a pair of purple socks, somewhat elementary in tone.     

       "We know your daughter, Mr. Blithers," said little Miss Nellie eagerly.     

       "I was just trying to remember—"     

       "We live across the road—over there in the little white house with the ivy—"     

       "—where I'd heard the name," proceeded Mr. Blithers, still looking at the Prince. "By jove, I should think my daughter and the Prince would make a rattling good match. I mean," he added, with a boisterous laugh, "a good match at tennis. We'll 

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