"Good work! Right-o!" laughed Edestone. "You have my permission to shoot whenever it goes to the Germans. Don't worry. They'll not murder and rob me in the middle of dear old London with all your fellows about, and I do not expect to leave the hotel tonight." CHAPTER XIV THE ROYAL TEA-TABLE As Edestone and Colonel Stewart were leaving the Palace, they were met by the young Prince of the Blood, who seemed bent upon renewing his acquaintance with his American friend. "I say, Edestone," he greeted him, "you really must not leave before giving me an opportunity of presenting you to some of the ladies of the Court. You are the lion of the day and they are anxious to meet you. My sister, Princess Billy, is almost in tears and hysterical. She insisted upon seeing your pictures because she said that you were an old friend of hers she had met on the steamer coming over from America." Accepting, Edestone smiled as he thought of the undignified manner of their meeting, and was taken in charge by the young man. Colonel Stewart made his excuses when the invitation was extended to him, saying: "Mr. Edestone, I shall wait for you in the Guards' Room," and, turning to the young man, he added: "I deliver him into your hands, and I hold you responsible for his valuable person which must be delivered to me there." Edestone was then taken in charge by the young Prince, who proudly bore him off to deliver him into the hands of the ladies. He was rather bored with the idea, and would have preferred to have gone directly to his hotel, as he had had an eventful day and he did not feel in the humour for the small talk of the tea-table. He was taken into one of the smaller rooms where several ladies and young officers in khaki were just finishing their tea. The atmosphere of the room was offensively heavy with the strong odour of iodoform. His pity was aroused when he suddenly realized that almost every man in the room bore the unmistakable mark of service in the trenches. It was the first time that he had been brought violently into contact with the far-reaching and horrible devastation of this cruel war. One pitiful figure, a young man of about twenty-two who sat apart from the rest, so affected him that he scarcely recovered himself in time to acknowledge the great kindness of the Duchess of Windthorst, who was