"Ought I to write my name or anything?" he asked. "He has stayed several
times with my father."
"Has he? But I don't suppose it matters. The visit is a
widely-advertised incognito. That's his way. God be with the
All-highest," he added.
"Well, I shan't" said Michael. "But it would shock my father dreadfully
if he knew. The Kaiser looks on him as the type and model of the English
nobleman."
Michael crunched one of the inimitable breakfast rusks in his teeth.
"Lord, what a day we had when he was at Ashbridge last year," he said.
"We began at eight with a review of the Suffolk Yeomanry; then we had a
pheasant shoot from eleven till three; then the Emperor had out a steam
launch and careered up and down the river till six, asking a thousand
questions about the tides and the currents and the navigable channels.
Then he lectured us on the family portraits till dinner; after dinner
there was a concert, at which he conducted the 'Song to Aegir,' and then
there was a torch-light fandango by the tenants on the lawn. He was on
his holiday, you must remember."
"I heard the 'Song to Aegir' once," remarked Falbe, with a perfectly
level intonation.
"I was--er--luckier," said Michael politely, "because on that occasion I
heard it twice.
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