“I had the misfortune to become his bête noire.”
Exactly at eight o’clock the Prince of Wales was announced and every one came to attention. He entered with the genial smile which was an inseparable part of him and shook hands with the American minister and other dignitaries. Soon he spied me, came across the room, greeted me very kindly, and said:
“How are you, little chap?”
“Very well, thank you, sir,” I replied.
“I am to hear you to-morrow night at the Duke of Devonshire’s, I understand,” he continued. “Won’t you give us that mother-in-law pantomime of yours?”
“Certainly, sir,” I answered; as the Prince left me and ascended the stairs I saw that the Master of Ceremonies, who had witnessed the meeting, was visibly disturbed. Soon he literally hovered about me and displayed a fixed and conciliatory smile. The guests began to follow the Prince, and as they passed up the stairs many of them greeted me. Senator Depew remarked:
“Hello, Marshall, how are you?”
That dear old gentleman and English idol, John L. Toole, passed, blinked merrily at me and said:
“Glad to see you again, Marshall. How are you?”