HER FIANCÉ
"Not the Prince of Wales! Not Allbert Eddard? Fi donc!"
A sleepy, drawling voice issued from under a great down puff on the couch, and as the group of girls started nervously and stared at the tumbled pillows, a small, sleek, silvery brown head emerged from beneath them, and two long-lashed violet eyes gleamed strangely from a dark-skinned little face.
"Why, Suzanne! Have you been here since morning? I thought you'd gone!"
"Mais non! I've been asleep. If it was about me, dears, never mind—I was fast asleep."
"Do you mean that you've slept here since nine? It's three now," said Biscuits incredulously.
"Tant mieux!" Suzanne returned lightly, "there's so much more time gone! It's very diverting—to sleep. It
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