“Alas, I do not know,” replied the wan stranger.  “I am called Juan,
  but my lineage is enveloped in gloom.”

At once Mary Matilda suspected he was her brother’s missing friend, and this suspicion was confirmed by the lavender trousers he wore.  She questioned him closely, and he told her all.  Bessie heard all he said, and she could tell you more particularly than I can about it.  I only know that Juan confessed that, having tasted of Mary Matilda’s cake, he fell deeply in love with her and had come all this distance to ask her to be his, indissolubly.

  “Still,” said he, sadly, “’tis too much to ask you to link your
  destiny with one whose lineage is not known.”

  By this time they had reached the back-yard gate.  Eddie Martin was
  sitting on the wood-pile talking with a weird old woman.  The weird
  old woman scrutinized Mary Matilda closely.

  “Do you know me?” she asked.

  “No,” said Mary Matilda.

  “I have been serving ten years for a mild indiscretion,” said the old
  woman, sadly.  “I am the gypsy who told your fortune many years ago.”

  Then the old gypsy’s keen eyes fell on Juan, the stranger.  She gave a
  fierce cry.

  “I have seen that face before!” she cried, trembling with emotion. 
  “When I knew it, it was a baby face; but the spectacles are still the
  same!”

[Illustration:  BROTHER SLOSSON AND HIS OTHER FRIEND EN ROUTE TO THE WEDDING.]

  Juan also quivered with emotion.

  “Have you a thistle mark on your left arm?” demanded the old gypsy,
  fiercely.

  “Yes,” he answered, hoarsely; and pulling up the sleeve of his linen
  ulster he exposed the beautiful emblem on his emaciated arm.

  “It is as I suspected!” cried the old gypsy.  “You are the Prince of
  Lochdougal, heir presumptive to the estates and titles of the
  Stuarts.”  And with these words the old gypsy swooned in Eddie
  Martin’s arms.

When she came to, she explained that she had been a stewardess in the Lochdougal castle at Inverness when Juan’s parents had been exiled for alleged conspiracy against the queen.  Juan was then a prattling babe; but even then he gave promise of a princely future.  Since his arrival at maturity his parents had feared to impart to him the secret of his lineage, lest he might return to Scotland and attempt to recover his estates, thereby incurring the resentment of the existing dynasty.

Of course when she heard of his noble lineage, Mary Matilda could do naught but accept the addresses of the brave prince.  He speedily regained his health and flesh under the grateful influences of her cuisine.  The wedding day has been set, and little Bessie is to be one of her bridesmaids.  The brother Slosson is to be present, and he is to bring with him his other friend, whose name he will not mention, since his lineage is still in doubt.

CHAPTER III