Lucy and Charles stood near, drinking in every word.

"The prince is my father, mistress," answered little Sky-High.

The two children, standing in the shelter of a carven screen, clapped
their hands in the American fashion. Lucy cried out, though softly, "Oh,
Sky-High, we are so glad, so glad! You _are_ a wang! You were a
wang all the time!"

"Even as you treated me, always, my little Lady of the Lotus!" answered
Sky-High, bowing before the children and their mother in the manner of
his gorgeous father.

* * * * *

That night there was a feast in the summer palace of the Canton mandarin
in honor of the return of the little prince, and the visit of his great
American friend, the mandarin of Boston.

Over the tea of Dharma the mandarins related Chinese tales for the
entertainment of the illustrious American. The little prince told the
story of the German collier family who changed a haunting evil into a
guardian angel.

And the prince, his father, said, "That must be a true tale, for it is
as it would be with men and spirits in China. The wisdom of Buddha is in
the story."

The next day, in the pavilion by the lake of the rosy nelumbiums, where
she sat with her mother, and the wonderful Chinese ladies and children,