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Surprise coloured faintly the explanation: "Plince Victo', honol'ble fathe' of Plincess Sofia. You like get up now, take bath, have blekfuss?" The smile was irresistibly ingratiating: Sofia could not but return it. Delighted, Chou Nu ran to the windows, threw wide their draperies, and darted into the bathroom.
She stated simply that all Chinamans in London called him that; and being pressed further added, with as near an approach to impatience as her gentle nature could muster, that it was obviously because Plince Victo' was Numbe' One: ev'-body knew that. A knock at the door interrupted Sofia's questioning.
Ching wear silk evely day in Queen Victolia countly. You no tink captain take Ching?" "I'm sure he would not," I said. "Ching velly good interpleter; velly useful man." "Very; you've been a splendid fellow, Ching!" He smiled, and a fresh idea struck him. "You tink Queen Victolia like Ching teach lit' plince and plincess talk Chinese?" Again I was obliged to damp his aspirations, and he sighed.
The other story is of the same tenour, though there is a new touch of sensibility in its concluding words. "I was playing at ball at Plain Palais, with one of my comrades named Plince. We began to quarrel over the game; we fought, and in the fight he dealt me on my bare head a stroke so well directed, that with a stronger arm it would have dashed my brains out.
"No, not this time, Ching," cried Barkins, as we all laughed. "No go allee way London? Ching wantee go London, see Queen Victolia and Plince o' Wales." "Some other time, Ching," I said. "But I say, how about the fancy shop?" "Allee light. Ching go back." "And how are you after our fight to-day?" "Velly angly. Allee muchee quite 'shame of mandalin men. Big lascal, evely one."
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