Philip read this additional item:
“We understand that Professor Riecabocca and Mr. Philip de Gray have received a cable despatch from the Prince of Wales, inviting them to instruct his sons in elocution and music, at a very liberal salary. They have this proposal under consideration, though they are naturally rather reluctant to give up the plaudits of the public, even for so honorable a position.”
“Professor Riccabocca,” said Philip, considerably annoyed by this audacious invention, “you ought to have consulted me before publishing such a falsehood as this.”
“Falsehood, Mr. de Gray? Really I’m shocked! Gentlemen don’t use such words, or make such charges.”
“You don’t mean to say it’s true that we have received any such telegram?”
“No; of course not.”
“Then why didn’t I use the right word?”
“It’s an innocent little fiction, my young friend—a fiction that will do no one any harm, but will cause us to be regarded with extraordinary interest.”
Here the thought occurred to Philip that he, the future instructor of British royalty, had only just escaped from a poorhouse, and it seemed to him so droll that he burst out laughing.
“Why do you laugh, Mr. de Gray?” asked the professor, a little suspiciously.