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"All very fine," say our bogey men, our prophets of impending evil; "but blue china has gone to the wall, autographs are losing caste, old books and first editions are on the downgrade, pipes are relegated to the lumber-room, metallurgical cabinets are coated with dust, and even walking-sticks survive only at Sandringham!" Just so.
Blithely they stepped along, and prepared to enter the palace with a flourish of trumpets, as it were, when King's music stopped suddenly. "Great Golliwogs!" he cried. "Look at that!" "Look at what?" said Tom, who was absorbed in the grand march. But he looked, and they all looked, and five angry exclamations sounded as they saw only the ruins of the beloved Sandringham Palace.
"Major Selby your uncle ought to have known better than to allow you." "Yes, oughtn't he," said Jill demurely. There was another silence, lasting for about a quarter of a mile. "Well, it's a bad business," said Mr Mariner. "Yes," said Jill. "I've felt that myself." The result of this conversation was to effect a change in the atmosphere of Sandringham.
A curious and amusing feature of the visit was a lecture before the Royal Family at Sandringham by a German engineer, for whom the Emperor acted as interpreter, on a novel adaptation of spirit for culinary, lighting, and laundry purposes.
Round the flower-garden at Sandringham runs an old wall of red brick, streaked with ivy and topped infrequently with balls of stone. By its iron gates, that open to a vista of flowers, stand two kind policemen, guarding the Princes procedure along that bright vista. As his perambulator rolls out of the gate of St. James's Palace, he stretches out his tiny hands to the scarlet sentinels.
He had been staying in November with Lord Londesborough at Scarborough, and on his return to Sandringham he was attacked by typhoid fever. For a time no anxiety was felt, because it was believed that the illness was a slight one. But suddenly the news was flashed through the country that his Royal Highness had taken a turn for the worse.
Hilda still hesitated. It occurred to me that she might not know where Titherington's house was. "Turn to the right," I said, "as soon as you get out of the hotel. Then go on to the end of the street. Mr. Titherington's house is at the corner and stands a little way back. It has 'Sandringham' in gilt letters on the gate. You can't miss it. In fact, you can see it from the door of the hotel.
Perhaps presently she would begin to hover about Windsor or Sandringham when peace was made, and the German cousins came visiting again.... Into Cissie's mind came the image of the thing that might be; Letty, shabby, draggled, with her sharp bright prettiness become haggard, an assassin dreamer, still dependent on Mr. Britling, doing his work rather badly, in a distraught unpunctual fashion.
The August Personage, who, as you are probably aware, has been staying at Sandringham for some days past, has been in the habit of taking a ride on one of his cars whenever the roads were in good condition, accompanied only by his chauffeur.
"You'll be able to put in five days' shooting a week with us, Bill, if you like," St. Nivel said, "before we go over to Sandringham. My invitation is for next Thursday week, so you'll be able to get your hand in." This gave a much-needed change to my ideas, but before I packed up to leave Bath I went down and had another look at 190 Monmouth Street.
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