The banqueting hall is decorated and the tables laid, the Royals have set up a mooring tower in the place they assure us is the best with regard for the wind - they spent a couple of days flying kites and making notes. There are wind socks on poles, and a radio link to the airport at Hurn and the Sea Harrier base.
There is a peculiar large wheeled thing which I am assured can carry a glass of water without spilling a drop, on the central platform.
The students have been instructed that they are to be in uniform, on the correct way to address the various visitors - even if they happen to be of a republican bent it is really not the thing to stick out your hand and say 'G'day, mate.'
Mister McGreagor has obtained access to a satelite with tracking radar and is watching the progress of the Saltire with interest - they have a following wind and are making record progress.
I have scoured the kitchens, classrooms and dormitories for anything in the least bit suspect, and lectured the gels most severely on what they are not to do. They giggle. I am sure they used to pay more attention, I cannot think what has got into them these days.
The technicians have prepared a banquet for two hundred, with a buffet for the outside staff and the Royals on separate sides of a large marquee set up between the long borders.

Matron has supervised the preparation of a suite of rooms suitable for our guest with views of the winter garden but at the quiet end of the House, just bathroom, kitchen, sitting room, study, dressing room and bedroom, nothing elaborate. The Minister has found a gentleman's gentleman and a young footman to assist in looking after Hamish, and two rather sinister looking men in black and a large 4 by 4 with smoked windows are standing by in order to ferry garments between here and Storrington. Their cred was slightly dented by my discovering them studying a thick volume of tartans when I took them some refreshments.

It is all so exciting!!