make mistake. It was the Princess Dehra.

I bowed low. "Your Royal Highness's pardon," I said. "I did not mean
to presume."

She measured me in a glance. "Indeed, you are most opportune," she
said, with a frank smile. "I have lost the groom,--his horse was too
slow,--and I've been punished by Lotta picking a stone I cannot remove."

CONCERNING ANCESTORS 25

"By your leave," I said, and lifted the mare's hoof. Pressing back the
frog I drew out the lump of sharp gravel.

"It looks so easy," she said.

"It was paining her exceedingly, but she is all right now."

"Then I may mount?"

I bowed.

"Without hurting Lotta?" she asked.

I turned the mare about and dropped my hand into position. For a
moment she hesitated. Then there was the swish of a riding skirt, the
glint of a patent-leather boot, an arched foot in my palm, and without
an ounce of lift from me she was in the saddle.

I stepped back and raised my hat.