thank you, doctor.
yes. albert victor. eddie for short. what do you think?
mama, i really do think it's time we made ourselves a little more .  available.
i think we must accept our position in the country is not entirely unrelated to the continued absence of the monarchy from public life. i thought perhaps we might consider a small gesture of some kind?
i thought, a dinner for our ambassadors perhaps?
it's so infernally cold in here.
mother.
if it is inconvenient to her majesty, then perhaps she might consider allowing the prince of wales to host--
surely it is for the gentlemen to decide when to stop.
yes, but isn't midnight a little excessive?
but mama, the room was built expressly for that purpose. it has been a smoking-room by tradition ever since father --
mama.
well, i'm sorry, but i really do think it's too much that the gentlemen of the house should be dictated to by a servant.
i beg your pardon? mama?
mr disraeli. ma'am.
have you met mr lyle? he's in sugar?
no doubt you've heard the rumors.
my concern is for the reputation of the monarchy.
i fear the influence he has on her. the man's word is not to be credited. he is an arriviste of the very lowest water. she's having a bust cast of him. in nero marquino marble.
i would talk to her myself, but she won't listen to me. she must be persuaded, by someone she respects, to abandon this ridiculous favoritism before a situation develops.
i don't imagine you frequent the republican clubs. but the fact that neither you nor i are members should not blind us to the significance of their existence. the tory party has always been our party.
i tell you, if we don't stick together on this, you could find yourself first president's opposition. du royaum uni.
i don't think we can overstate the seriousness of this.
i wish to see my mother.
convey her a message.
tell her the prince of wales wishes to speak with her urgently about matters concerning the press.
what did you say?
do you know who you address, sir?
the future king!
out of my way!
so there he is, arthur o'conner.
 all seven stone of the man, paddling madly towards us through a sea of horse guards, waving something that looks vaguely like a pen. i thought he must be one of the mother's ardent readership in search of the royal indenture.
i believe i saw him first and then alerted brown. i'm not convinced that he wasn't taking a snooze on top of the box. anyway, we had our man pinned down and i must say, brown acquitted himself admirably. of course the gun was a fake, but all the same, it was well done.
a toast. victoria regina!