"I shan't be more than a minute," replied the Colonel. "Have you noticed how devilish official he's become lately, Billy? It's from standing in the Great Ian's shoes, I suppose."
"You shall not divert me," said the Prince. "I observe an attempt, but it is useless. When do you announce your approaching marriage?"
"Now, if you like," said the Colonel, dipping his pen in the ink, and drawing a sheet of paper towards him.
The Prince's jaw dropped. He stared at Colonel Audley and then laughed. "Oh yes, I am very stupid! I will certainly swallow that canard!"
"If he's going to conduct his flirtations on Government paper, I demand to know the identity of the Fatal - what did you say her name was, Billy?"
"Barbara! The disastrous Lady Barbara Childe!" answered the Prince dramatically.
"Barbara Childe? Oh, I know! Bab Alastair that was. Is she accounted fatal?"
"But entirely, Fitzroy! A veritable Circe - and I delivered Charles into her power!"
The Colonel looked up. "Yes, you did, so you shall be the first to know that she is going to become my wife."
The Prince blinked at him. "Plait-il?"