When they reached the doorway of the chapel, Mr. Belden stood watch in hand, for he had decided he would take the two-o'clock train back to London, while Marie-Celeste ran on telling how Donald had gone to stay with Chris at Nuneham, and various other matters about Ted and Harold that were of more interest to Mr. Belden than she had any idea of. Finally, in breathless, excited fashion, she told of the visit to the Queen she and Albert had made, and of how she had handled with her own hands treasures that had belonged to Madame La Petite Reine. Of course it seemed almost incredible, but then the “incredible” was coming to seem rather a part of Marie-Celeste's make-up in Mr. Belden's mind. At last, when he felt that he must not delay another moment, he took leave of her, saying as he went, “Well, as usual you have set me thinking, my little friend,” but as though he were grateful for the same; and Marie-Celeste, turning back to finish the copying of the Prince Imperial's prayer, wondered in her practical little way if anything would come of the thinking, and if so, if she would ever happen to hear what it was; and yet at the same time not a little sceptical as to any tangible result whatsoever.