A BACHELOR KING.

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XII, Issue 244, 28 September 1922, Page 7

A BACHELOR KING.

PRINCE OF WALES AM) MARRIAGE. A FEAST OF GUESSING. The Prince of Wales has been home from India for some time, the last ' court of the season has been held, the last new gown and the last blazing tiara are laid away, the last intimate little dinner party is over and done. July is past, the Prince is 28 years old —and still he is not engaged (states the London correspondent oi the “‘New York 'limes”). Before he got home from India everybody said that the thing was as plain as a pikestaff, that the Prince was I going to be given two choices. Lady Marv Cambridge or Lady Rachel Cavendish,, and that before the end of .June everybody would know who was to be England s future Queen. Then he arrived smiling in the very best of spirits, looking more boyish, smaller than ever; and suddenly everybody found himself talking about bachelor sovereigns, scanning old history books to see how many bachelor or pseudo-bachelor kings England has actually had ; and. at the same time, this fickle everybody turned round and began criticising those two poor girls, the same girls who three weeks ago were being praised and complimeented until their ears must have burned. It was impossible to tell which girl was most highly favoured at court. They were both bridesmaids to Princess Mary. It is well known that the Duchess of Devonshire is the most intimate woman friend Queen Mary has, their children were brought up together, and Lady Rachel and her four sisters have always shared the lessons and games of the Royal children. Lady Mary Cambridge, on the other hand, is the daughter of Queen Mary's brother, her favourite brother, and since Princess Mary's marriage, this young lady, has been staying at Buckingham Palace off and onsaii the tune. She went to Aidershot with the Royal couple, rode cross country, and reviewed the troops with the King and the Duke of York, and was one of the iiouse party at Windsor for Ascot week. She i eturned with the King and Queen to Buckingham Palace, and was there to welcome the Prince when he got home. Then the Duchess of Devonshire was to give her daughter’s coming-out bail on the Prince- of Wales’s birthday night, the Prince himself was to be the chief guest, and, although the invitations announced that knee breeches would not bo worn, indicating that the Queen herself would not be present, it was whispered that the news would be ; announced that night by the Duchess. As it turned out, howe.er, the Prince did not go to the Ducness of Devonshire’s ball at all ; various reasons were given ; he dined quietly with his father and mother on his birthday night, and was in his own apartments at St. James’s Palace before 12 o’clock. Naturally the ball was not the brilliant affair anticipated. The next day it was announced that it had nut been a coming-out party alter all, but was just a sort oi informal house-warming of the Devonto mark the retirement from Devonshire Louse, the now derelict ducal palace in Piccadilly, to a comparatively modest residence in Carlton Gardens/ And now, right m the very middle of the season, when everybody was expecting that he would he here, there and everywhere, the Prince of W ales has simply dropped right out of sight. He plays'polo at Hurlingham in the morning (as Mr. Alberts), answers letters, pays a few visits to personal friends in the afternoon, spends a lot of time with his grandmother, Queen Alexandra, and dines with or entertains every evenig old cronies of the male persuasion only. heneyer he says anything the Prince mentions the fact that he is taking a rest, that his doings are of the most dull and commonplace. Then he just smiles and goes on exercising at whatever violent physical exercise he happens to be taking at the moment. Curiously enough, Doth the Lady Rachel and the Lady Mary have also disappeared from London right in the middle of the season. That is literally all that is to be got of his affairs just now. When an exalted old Indian prince with Oriental simplicity asked hin|

how many wives he had, Prince Edward laughed tremendously, and replied that ho was as yet unmarried. “But you mast he lonely,” returned the old man. “No,” replied the Prince, with a decision which startled his retinue, “1 am anything but lonely.” So the old story is coming hack again, that the Prince has his own plans, that heaven and earth will not shake him, that he will not be dictated to in this marriage business by anyone on earth, and that while he is willing and eager to do every possible duty connected with his position, there is one thing he will not do, and that is to allow himself to be married off. And a saying of his i> now recalled at the time he heard of his sister’s engagement to Viscount Lascelles—of whom he is said not to be too fond, owing to the too close surveillance of llr? older man during the Prince’s visit to France when he was determined to get under fire and was always baulked by Lascelles, under whose charge he was out. It is now recalled that on one occasion the Prince muttered before he caught himself. “They shall never marry me off like that. I choose for myself.” Will he really dare to do it? Will he be allowed? Will the country stand for his choice blindly? I believe it will. The Prinme of Wales has served his country well. He is a clean, honest fellow, and it would lie just like England to show its appreciation by allowing this young man to follow his heart against all precedent and take the consequences, whatever they mav be.