If Charles Philip Arthur George Mount-batten-Windsor did not exist, who
could invent him? Consider. He can pilot a jet fighter and knows enough
about helicopters to help repair them. He has skippered a Royal Navy
minesweeper through North Atlantic gales with the skill of a yachtsman
handling a racing sloop. He plays an aggressive, three-plus-handicap
game of polo and is a qualified paratrooper. He is a gifted amateur
cellist who can be moved to tears while listening to the music of
Berlioz. He has scuba-dived in the Caribbean, schussed down Alps,
sambaed into the night with Brazilian beauties. A keen student of
history, he can discourse persuasively on the neglected virtues of his
ancestor King George III, and is host and interviewer on a TV series on
anthropology. Conservatively estimated, his income is about $420,000 a year. He is
master of a stately home on 3,000 acres in Kent, which he calls
“the most desirable bachelor pad in Europe.” He has a
mischievous, urbane wit, an infectious smile. At 29, he is trim and —yes—unmarried. As if
this were not enough to thrill every mother
