"Now that is where my grandfather showed himself out of touch with the spirit of the age. Had he allowed Aunt Sophie to marry the Bishop and go out during the cool months of the year to teach Bogaboo ladies the use of the crinoline--it was just when crinolines were going out of fashion here, and they could have got them cheap--he would have done a most popular stroke for the monarchy."
"But you forget, my dear boy," said the King, "the Bogaboos were at that time a really dangerous tribe--they still practised cannibalism."
"Yes, they still had their natural instincts unimpaired; the Christian substitute of gin had not yet taken hold on them, and their national institution still provided the one form of useful martyrdom that was left to us. Had Aunt Sophie, or her husband, been eaten by savages there would have been a boom in missions, and both the Church and the monarchy would have benefited enormously. Royalty must take its risks. Kings no longer ride into battle at the head of their armies: even the cadets of royalty, when they get leave to go, are kept as much out of danger as possible. But if royalty cannot lead in something more serious than the trooping of colors and the laying of foundation-stones, then royalty is no longer in the running.
"Now what you ought to do is--find out at what point it would break with all tradition for you to be really natural and think and act as an ordinary gentleman of sense and honor, and then--go and do it! The Government would roll its eyes in horror; the whole Court would be in commotion; but with the people generally you would win hands down!"
"Max, you are tempting me!" said the King.
"Sir," said his son, "I cannot express to you how great is my wish to be proud of your shoes if hereafter I have to step into them. Could you not just once, for my sake, do something that no Government would expect--just to disturb that general smugness of things which is to-day using the monarchy as its decoy?"
The King gazed upon the handsome youth with eyes of hunger and affection. "What is it that you want me to do?" he inquired.
Max held out his cigar at arm's length, looked at it reflectively, and flicked off the ash.
"Don't do that on the carpet!" said his father.