Ellpus, old chap! Are you the same Ellpus I was at Eton and in the Guards with? My memory isn't what it ought to be. I remember fagging for a prefect - warming his toilet seat, if I remember correctly - with another chap, who I think may have been you.
Alas, I have fallen on hard times since, and cannot even afford to maintain a decent-sized staff. Or even a small staff, come to that. My Ten Thousand Men were given their cards a long time ago. The incident with the hill and the marching had left me very depressed, you know.
I have even had to resort to using the Ducal fingers to type these words, rather than the fancy gadgetry you've had installed down in Droitwich Manor. My own stately pile went under the hammer some time ago, I'm afraid. It's now a set of "luxury" appartments for the ghastly nouveau-riche of the North. I have been reduced to residing amongst the Proles, which is, as you can understand, most distressing.
Still, chin-up, what?
I must admit, that I had to delve into the old grey matter on this one, old boy. A grand Duke? At Eton with me? Guardsman like myself?.......and then it all came together.
You must be "Frothy" Farquarharson, Duke of Northumberland. I knew you before you received Title old boy, so that means the old man must have popped his clogs. Shame....he taught me all I know about catching deer poachers.
Sorry to hear about the hard times Frothy, inheritance tax was it? Damned Socialists, never like seeing anyone with squillions. I've just had Arrabella my Accountant, juggling my assets all morning, and she managed to control my outflow quite easily, with only the slightest manipulation.
Ah, do you remember Eton Frothy, the lazy days, bunfights in the great hall, roasting the new boys over the fire. Miss Thrasher's porcelain collection....she had a fine pair of jugs if I remember.
What about our stint in the Congo eh? Flies, filth, stench....and that was just Corporal Sprogett and his "problem".
How do you manage to keep yourself in Corvoisier these days, old man? Dont tell me that you've had to get a job. Does that involve meeting the general public? What is that like? How awfully ghastly for you.
If you're ever down in London old boy, just look me up at the Club. Although I remain a frightfuly stingey bastard, I'll make an exception for a fellow Aristo and lend you a few bob, and at a very reasonable interest rate.
Toodle Pip Frothy, and "Illegitimis non carborundum", eh?
Spanky.
