She told me. Well, not in so many words. She’s always careful in what she says, but I know her too well. She loves him. I hope he loves her. He’d better. I did ask Mummy if she thought Philip might propose to Lilibet. She laughed that little light laugh of hers that isn’t really a laugh, but gives her time to think. ‘Who can foretell the future, darling?’ she said. I waited. I thought that if I kept quiet, Mummy might keep talking. She did. ‘We like Philip very much, of course we do,’ she said, ‘and he’s certainly proved himself in the war. He’s a fine young man, and I know Lilibet is fond of him. But…’ Again, I waited. ‘But she’s so young. Too young to know her own feelings.’ ‘Mummy, she’s eighteen. Grown up.’ Mummy had all sorts of ‘buts’. But they don’t really know each other. But he has no proper home. But he may not be as fond of Lilibet as she is of him.
