Mother and daughter exchanged glances. “Well,” replied Mrs Jesup, “we don’t wish to put you out in the least, Prince. I’m sure—”
“Good! You’ll both come. I’ll order the car for three o’clock.”
The Prince ascended the stairs much gratified. He had made a very creditable commencement. The hundred or so of other girls of various nations who had been presented to him with matrimonial intent could not compare with her, either for beauty, for charm, or for intelligence.
It was a pity, he reflected, that she was not of royal, or even noble birth.
Charles helped him on with a light motor-coat, and, as he did so, asked:
“If the Parson calls, what am I to say?”
“Say what you like, only send him back to London. Tell him he is better off in Bayswater than in Brighton. He’ll understand.”
“He may want some money. He wrote to you yesterday, remember.”
“Then give him fifty pounds, and tell him that when I want to see him I’ll wire. I want to be alone just now, Charles,” he added a trifle impatiently. “You’ve got the key of my despatch-box, eh?”
“Yes, your Highness.”