“Do you know that lovely girl who passed just now, hanging on the arm of that tall, gray-haired old gentleman?”
“What girl? I noticed no girl particularly.”
“Chut! are you subject to catalepsy, Kill.?” laughed Leslie.
“But who can she be? Some girl that is just out, I suppose. Somebody must know. Let’s go and ask Harry. He knows everything,” said Beresford, moving off.
“Stop—find out who the old gentleman is first. He looks like a foreigner, and she must be his daughter,” suggested the Guardsman.
“Oh! by the way! that is it!” suddenly exclaimed the Hussar.
“What is it? Have you made a discovery?”
“Yes! you said he looked like a foreigner; and so the whole thing flashed upon me at once. He is the Prince Waldemar Pullmynoseoff. Her Majesty received him yesterday. He has a daughter. The Princess Shirra.”
“Why, certainly! of course! undoubtedly! how could we have missed seeing it at once.”
And so these young men, upon their own sole responsibility, settled the rank of the simple republican gentleman and lady.