here."

"But since," said John, with a flattering glance, "since you _are_ here,
I have no further reason to deplore its farawayness. So few places are
far away, in these times and climes," he added, on a note of melancholy,
as one to whom all climes and times were known.

"Hum!" said Lady Blanchemain, matter-of-fact. "Have you been here long?"

"Let me see," John answered. "To-day is the 23rd of April. I arrived
here--I offer the fact for what it may be worth--on the Feast of All
Fools."

"_Absit omen_," cried she. "And you intend to stay?"

"Oh, I'm at least wise enough not to fetter myself with intentions,"
answered John.

She looked about, calculating, estimating.

"I suppose it costs you the very eyes of your head?" she asked.

John giggled.

"Guess what it costs--I give it to you in a thousand."

She continued her survey, brought it to a period.

"A billion a week," she said, with finality. John exulted.