"Of course," Monkley answered. "I know you're genuine enough. All you've got to do is to back--Well, here he is," he added, turning round and pointing to Sylvia.
"I don't think Sil looks much like a king," Henry said, pensively. "Though I'm bound to say the only one I ever saw in real life was Leopold of Belgium."
Sylvia began to think that Clara had been right, after all.
"What about the present King of Spain, then?" Monkley asked. "He isn't much more than nine years old, if he's as much. You don't suppose he looks like a king, do you? On the Spanish stamps he looks more like an advertisement for Mellin's food than anything else."
"Naturally the _de jure_ King of Spain, who until the present has been considered to be Don Carlos, is also the _de jure_ King of France," said the Prince de Condé.
"Don't you start any of your games with kings of France," Henry advised. "I know the French well and they won't stand it. What does he want to be king of two places for? I should have thought Spain was enough for anybody."
"The divine right of monarchs is something greater than mere geography," the Prince answered, scornfully.
"All right. Have it your own way. You're the authority here on kings. But don't overdo it. That's all I advise," Henry said, finally. "I know everybody thinks I'm wrong nowadays," he added, with a glance at Monkley and Sylvia. "But what about Condy's Fluid?"
"What about it?" Monkley asked. "What do you want Condy's for?"
"I don't want it," said Henry. "I simply passed the remark. Our friend here is the Prince de Condé. Well, I merely remark 'What about Condy's Fluid?' I don't want to start an argument, because, as I said, I'm always wrong nowadays, but I think if he wanted to be a prince he ought to have chosen a more _recherché_ title, not gone routing about among patent medicines."
The Prince de Condé looked inquiringly at Monkley.
"Don't you bother about him, old chap. He's gone off at the deep end."
"I knew it," Henry said. "I knew I should be wrong. That's right, laugh away," he added, bitterly, to Sylvia.
There followed a long explanation by the prince of Sylvia's royal descent, which she could not understand at all. Monkley, however, seemed to be understanding it very well, so well that her father gave up being offended and loudly expressed his admiration for Jimmy's grip of the subject.