lantern with the order to "come this way." They all stumbled up the
crumbling steps after him and suddenly found themselves behind the altar
of a chapel that stood at the far end of the garden.

"For pity's sake!" cried the little tourist, her eyes again
blinking--this time at the light. "I never was in such a wonderful place
in all my life. My! It won't seem like anything at all to go down cellar
at home after I get back! Is this the way you go to meeting? Oh, no--you
said you hadn't been down often. Maybe this is the way to go when it
rains! It don't rain much here, does it? My, but that's an idea--to go
underground to church. I wonder how ever you get used to it." And then
irrelevantly she added, "All these beautiful churches over here in
Yurrup, not a pew in one of 'em."

"They bring out these kneeling chairs for service," the princess said,
pointing to a number against one wall of the chapel.

Again all the tourist could say was her ever ready "My!"

"Would you like to see some of the castle?" the princess asked. "There
is a picture gallery not usually opened to visitors, also some
apartments with frescoes that are worth seeing." Then to the guide, "You
may take them into the west wing." The tourists looked variously,
according to their several dispositions; the little one beamed.

"Oh, that's real kind of Your Highness," she exclaimed, her small gray
person fluttering, more than ever like a mouse. "I must say that's real
kind. I just dote on pictures. Do you like crayons? Well, I like oils
best myself, but there are some who have a taste for crayons. The
photographer's son--out where I live--he is real talented. He did some