The Court Chronicles of the Grand Duchy of Valeria report the following
conversation as having taken place between the reigning Duke and his
consort. That the conversation took place in London is undoubtedly due
to the fact that the Royal Duke and his Duchess were at the time on a
state visit to that capital, with a view to taking a turn around the
Wembley Exhibition.
“We will give a ball,” said His Highness the Hereditary Grand Duke of
Valeria. “In fact, we must give a ball. And everyone in London will come
to it.”
“Why should they?” said Her Highness.
“Now try not to be disagreeable, my dear. I have no idea why they
should, but I am positive they will. They always do.”
“But, Frederick, what is the matter with you to-night? Why do you want
to give a ball, since you cannot dance? Upon my word, if I danced like
you I should be ill at the very idea of a ball! So be sensible, my love,
and go to sleep again.”
“Now try not to be unpleasant, Ethelberta. You do not seem to understand
that people in our position _must_ every now and then give a ball. That
is undoubtedly what balls are for, that people in our position should
give them. I have worked out the matter very carefully.”
“Then you are quite wrong, my love. Balls are for something quite
different. I assure you that I have also worked out the matter very
carefully. Balls are for English people to give, Americans to pay for,
and Argentines to dance at.”
“Now try not to be tiresome, my dear. It will seem extremely peculiar in
us not to give at least one ball while we are in London. The Diplomatic
Corps will not fail to remark our ill-timed economy. Do you forget that
we are Royalty?”
“Fiddledidee!” said the Duchess.
“Now,” said the Duke, “try not to be----”
“Bother Royalty!” said the Duchess. “I’ve never got anything by being
Royal except to be treated like a village idiot all my life. And now you
want me to give a beastly ball, at which I shall have to dance with a
lot of clumsy Ambassadors. Frederick, I tell you here and now that I
will not give a ball. And if you want to know my reasons for not giving
a ball, they are, briefly, as follows.”
They followed.
“Whereas,” said His Highness, “_my_ reasons for wishing to give this
confounded ball are not entirely social. Our daughter----”
“You are not going to pretend, my love, that the happiness of our only
daughter is influencing you in the least! You will not dare to pretend
that, Frederick, considering that ever since we have been in London you
have kept the poor child locked in her room.”
“You know very well,” said the Duke hotly, “that we both decided that in
the circumstances----”
“Well, I think it’s most insanitary,” said the Duchess, “keeping the
poor child locked in her room day in and day out! In the end all that
will happen will be that she will lose her figure and no one will marry
her at all and _then_ where are we?”
“Ethelberta!” cried His Highness, leaping from the bed and looking
sternly down at her. “I did not think you could carry levity so far.
Woman, would you compromise with our honour and the honour of Valeria?”
“If there was any money in it, my love, I would of course ask your
advice first, as you know so much more than I do about selling things. I
really don’t know where we would be now if you hadn’t been so clever
about our neutrality during the war. Now, my love, stop being silly and
get back to bed. You look too ridiculous in those bright pink pyjamas.
What the Lord-in-Waiting was doing to let you buy them I can’t imagine!”
“Ethelberta,” said His Highness sternly, “understand this! We are in
England, at considerable expense----”
“Naturally, my love, if you will buy pyjamas like that!”
“---- to avenge a mortal insult to our honour. Woman, would you have our
innocent daughter be spurned by the villain who seduced her?”
“These are strong words!” said the Duchess.
“I feel strongly about it,” said the Duke.
“And anyhow, she can’t be as innocent as all that,” said the Duchess
thoughtfully, “now. I know girls. Oh, dear, what fun girls have!”
“Ethelberta, this English lord must die!”
“All English lords must die, my love, in due course. It is a law of
nature. Now come back to bed.”
“I have worked the matter out very carefully, and that is why I am
giving this ball. We cannot kill this coward out-of-hand by hiring some
low assassin, for he is, after all, a gentleman. And besides, in this
confounded country,” His Highness continued warmly, “you cannot fire a
revolver without every policeman in the neighbourhood wanting to know
why you did it. Therefore, the ball.”
“What, are you going to fire revolvers off at our ball? My love, are you
sure that will be quite safe?”
“My idea is that the noise of the ball will screen the rattle of
musketry. For that purpose I shall engage the most violent
saxophone-player in the country. I have already taken advice on that
point. The firing-party will, of course, be in the garden. So now,
Ethelberta, you understand why we must give this----”
“Oh, give your rotten ball!” said Her Highness sleepily.