The King was due at Southampton that day week, and his dutiful son-in-law proposed to meet him there. In spite of his casual and nonchalant airs, he had an inborn instinct for behaving well on great occasions. Ferdinand the Twelfth having affirmed his determination to visit our shores, it seemed to Fitz that it behoved all concerned to make the best of a bad business. It was a sad bore that he should have decided to do any such thing, but at the same time it might prove an amusing and possibly an instructive experience to have the victor of Rodova dwelling among us in Middleshire.
For Mrs. Arbuthnot these were great days. Almost the first thing she did was to borrow an under-footman from Yorkshire. She also provoked a state of anarchy in the kitchen by engaging for a fortnight a cordon bleu lately in the service of a nobleman. Our much-maligned and occasionally inebriated household goddess was fairly good for plain dishes, but certainly not for such as were to be set before a king. Upon inquiry of his daughter as to what dishes would make the best appeal to the royal palate, the Princess was fain to declare that if the victor of Rodova might be said to have a weakness for anything in particular it was for tomatoes.
It was my privilege to be present when, one morning at breakfast, the mandate was issued to Joseph Jocelyn De Vere that for the time being it was necessary that he should seek other quarters.
"I am really so sorry," said his sister in a birdlike voice, "I am really so dreadfully sorry. But what can we do? Two rather important members of the Illyrian Cabinet are coming from Blaenau to see dear Sonia, and of course it is only right that we should put them up."
"That is what all that talk about Count This and Baron That amounts to, is it?" said the young fellow, coolly. "Well, now, Mops, you don't suppose I am going to put myself to the trouble of clearin' out for a couple of bally foreigners, do you? This box suits me very well, and the Coach and Horses is quite a second-rate sort of pub."
"You can have your meals here, of course, but it would hardly be right to send foreigners of distinction to the village inn."
"Foreigners of distinction! Why, it would take the King himself to uproot me."
Such a moment was too much for Mrs. Arbuthnot's dramatic sense.
"Well, it so happens," said she, with a carefully calculated unconcern, "it is the King himself."
Jodey laid down his coffee-cup.