IN August Karyl Pendragon had consented to a week’s cruise in the Archduke of Westria’s magnificent yacht, Die Goldene Ganze, on condition that she chose her own party to accompany her. The women she selected were beauties of repute, high-bred and clever; the men interesting and of political value. But her chief guest was the Prince of Wales, who threw over another engagement to join her, thus affording much copy to the journalists of the time, whose pens were ever ready to make the best of such opportunities. For several days, in every paper in England, the public was enchanted to find personal paragraphs about the Archduke of Westria’s yacht and its passengers, chronicling the furniture of the 92Prince’s cabin, the attire of the ladies, the table decorations in the saloon, and other matters dear to the British heart, illustrated, in some cases, by fearful prints from impossible photographs.