Names make news. Last week these names made this news:

The identity of the mystery guest was no secret: he was the meandering Marquess of Milford Haven, 38, divorced since 1954 and long a close pal of Hungarian-born Cineminx Eva (Ten Thousand Bedrooms) Bartok. The mystery was why he had visited Eva, 28, at her mother's cottage in a London suburb two days in a row last week. Also there to greet Milford Haven was Eva's mystery moppet Deana, born to her last October in London almost a year after her divorce from her fourth husband. Eva had refused to name the father--though brightly adding that "I know who he is." As the marquess strode from the cottage after a ten-hour get-together, shivering newshounds outside helpfully suggested that wedding bells might be ringing soon. "Romance? Marriage?" snapped Milford Haven. "What are you talking about? I was a guest for dinner, that's all!"

Reminiscing in Paris about her earlier years, aging (22) Novelist Franchise (Those Without Shadows) Sagan was rueful about the estimated $500,000 she made off her first three bedtime stories. "The tax people caught up with me and took 65% of my earnings," said she with a certain sadness. "If I'd had more sense I'd have owned whole estates by now. But I bought cars and boats which ended up scuttled on roads or at the bottom of the sea."

The first U.S.-born Metropolitan Opera prima donna ever to sing in the U.S.S.R., Mezzo-Soprano Blanche Thebom, came home with some wide-eyed observations about Soviet singers, recollections of a visit to a Kremlin museum, laurels from Moscow critics and audiences for wowing them with their sexiest Carmen ever. "We could learn from Russian musicians about colleague behavior," said Blanche without blanching visibly. "Tantrums and jealousy don't seem to exist in musical circles, and the tenors were so wonderfully flattering that they all forgot their lines in the love scenes!"

Back home in Ottawa, Ill., ex-Army Private William Girard, 22, out of jeopardy after a Japanese court gave him a three-year sentence (suspended) for killing a woman scavenging on a firing range in Japan, out of uniform after an undesirable discharge, quested for a job and anonymity. But Girard's Japanese wife Candy was getting a warmer reception from the locals than Bill. While he was unsuccessfully seeking work, she was neatly fitting herself into his family, even helped fix the Christmas turkey. Girard was moaning meek and low: "All I want to do is get me a job, make a good living, be a good husband and just be an average guy. I don't want no part of the limelight ever again."

Dreamboat Squealer Elvis Presley, 22, got a 60-day draft deferment in order to complete a movie (TIME, Dec. 30), prepared for his farewell to soft civilian life by donating a trunkful of his cuddly stuffed Teddy bears, plus two black and white toy pandas and a fake koala, to the March of Dimes for auctioning later this month.

Five members of Japan's royal family obligingly strolled out on the Imperial Palace grounds in Tokyo, beamed down on Anastasia, a pet dog of Prince Alcihito (TIME, Dec. 30). With Akihito were his pretty sister Princess Suga, 18, Empress Nagako, Poetaster Emperor Hirohito (whose New Year verse on the clouds will be published next week) and 22-year-old Prince Yoshi.

In all his years of steeping himself in antiquity, Britain's Novelist-Poet Robert (I, Claudius; The Greek Myths) Graves had never been to Rome. Last week, resplendent in a white formal evening shirt, pink tie and embroidered gold vest, Traveler Graves, 62, long based on the Mediterranean isle of Majorca, finally made his first appearance on the scene of many of his writings. To the dismay of Roman antiquarians, he refused to go near the Colosseum or other ruins: "Why should I visit ruins when the shops are so good?" In high good humor, he recalled a fanciful previous visit: "I was last in Rome in 540 A.D., when it was full of Goths and their heavy horses. It has changed a great deal since then."

Lieut. David Steeves, U.S.A.F.R., 23, still sticking to (or stuck with) his story of a fast bail-out and slow 54-day ordeal in the Sierra Nevada wilds (TIME, July 15, Aug. 26), was relieved from active duty at his own request, began scrounging for "some kind of flying job." Dave Steeves also has domestic troubles; his pretty wife Rita has left him, sees no hope of reunion because there is "no love" between them. But the crash of his marriage, disclosed Pilot Steeves in this month's Redbook magazine, had nothing to do with the crash of his plane. Prior to his sojourn in the mountains, by his own admission, he had been flying too high too long with an extracurricular cutie from San Francisco.

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