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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e128d04 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #68222 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68222) diff --git a/old/68222-0.txt b/old/68222-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3057d6c..0000000 --- a/old/68222-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4280 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of His fortunate Grace, by Gertrude -Atherton - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: His fortunate Grace - -Author: Gertrude Atherton - -Release Date: June 1, 2022 [eBook #68222] - -Language: English - -Produced by: D A Alexander and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team - at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images - generously made available by University of California - libraries) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HIS FORTUNATE GRACE *** - - - - - -HIS FORTUNATE GRACE - - - - - His Fortunate Grace - - By - Gertrude Atherton - - Author of A Whirl Asunder, The Doomswoman, - Patience Sparhawk and Her Times, - Before The Gringo Came, Etc. - - New York - D. Appleton and Company - 1897 - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1897, - BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. - - - - - TO - ALEECE VAN BERGEN. - - - - -HIS FORTUNATE GRACE. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - - -“ARE you quite sure?” Mr. Forbes laid down his newspaper, and -looked with slightly extended mouth at his daughter who leaned forward -in an attitude of suppressed energy, her hands clasped on the edge of -the breakfast-table. The heiress of many millions was not handsome: -her features were large and her complexion dull; but she had the -carriage and ‘air’ of the New York girl of fashion, and wore a French -morning-toilette which would have ameliorated a Gorgon. - -“Quite sure, papa.” - -“I suppose you have studied the question exhaustively.” - -“Oh, yes, indeed. I have read Karl Marx and Henry George and a lot of -others. I suppose you have not forgotten that I belong to a club of -girls who aspire to be something more than fashionable butterflies, and -that we read together?” - -“And you are also positive that you wish me to divide my fortune with -my fellow-men, and deprive you of the pleasant position of heiress?” - -“Perfectly positive,” firmly. “It is terrible, terrible to think of the -starving thousands. I feel it my duty to tell you, papa, that if you do -not do this yourself, I shall--when--when--but I cannot even think of -that.” - -“No; don’t worry about it. I’m good for twenty or thirty years yet----” - -“You are the handsomest and most distinguished-looking man in New York.” - -“Thanks. To proceed: I should say that you are likely to be several -things meanwhile. I don’t know that I shall even take the trouble to -alter my will. Still, I may--that is unless you convert me. And you are -also convinced that women should have the vote?” - -“Yes! Yes! indeed I am. I know all the arguments for and against. I’ve -heard and read everything. You see, if we get the vote we can bring -Socialism about quite easily.” - -“Without the slightest difficulty, I should say, considering the -homogeneity of the feminine mind.” - -“You darling sarcastic thing. But can’t you see what weight such women -as we are interesting in the cause _must_ have? We have carefully -excluded the _nouveau riche_; only the very oldest and most -notable names will be on our petition when we get it up.” - -“Oh, you are going to get up a petition? Well, let that pass for the -present. Suppose you fall in love and want to marry?” - -“I shall tell him everything. What I intend to make of my life--do -with what wealth I have at my disposal. If he does not sympathize -with me and agree to my plans, he must go. A woman’s chief end is not -matrimony.” - -“I need not ask if you have ever been in love?” - -“Oh, of course, I want to be, dreadfully. All women do--even we -advanced women--now, papa! I don’t love you quite so well when you -smile like that. I am twenty-one, and that is quite old for a girl who -has been highly educated, has travelled, and been out two years. I -have a right to call myself advanced, because I have gone deliberately -into the race, and have read up a great deal, even if I have as yet -accomplished nothing. Exactly how much are you worth, papa?” - -“Broadly speaking, about thirty millions. As a great deal of that is in -railroad and other stock, I am liable to be worth much less any day; -much is also in land, which is worth only what it will bring. Still, I -should say that I am reasonably sure of a fair amount.” - -“It is terrible, papa! All that land! Do give some of it at least -to the poor dear people--I assure you we feel that we have taken -them under our wing, and have grown quite sentimental over them. Mr. -George would tell you what to do, at once. That man’s very baggy knees -fascinate me: he is so magnificently in earnest. When he scolded us all -for being rich, the other day at the meeting, I loved him.” - -“It is a great relief to me that George is a married man. Well, my -dear, your allowance is ten thousand dollars a year. Do what you please -with it, and come to me if your fads and whims demand more. God forbid -that I should stand in the way of any woman’s happiness. By the by, -what does your mother think of this business?” - -“She is _most_ unsympathetic.” - -“So I should imagine,” said Mr. Forbes, drily. “Your mother is the -cleverest woman I know.” - - - - -CHAPTER II. - - -AFTER luncheon, Miss Forbes hied herself to a drawing-room -meeting in behalf of Socialism. Despite the fact that she had elected -the rôle of mental muscularity, she gave studious application to her -attire: her position and all that pertained to it were her enduring -religion; the interests of the flashing seasons were unconsciously -patronised rather than assimilated. As she walked up the Avenue -toward the house of her friend, Mrs. Latimer Burr, she looked like a -well-grown lad masquerading in a very smart outfit of brown tweed, so -erect and soldierly was her carriage, so independent her little stride. -A bunch of violets was pinned to her muff, another at her throat, and -she wore a severe little toque instead of the picture-hat she usually -affected. - -She smiled as she swung along, and one or two women looked back -at her and sighed. She was quite happy. She had never known an -ungratified wish; she was spoken of in the newspapers as one of the few -intellectual young women in New York society; and now she had a really -serious object in life. She felt little spasms of gratification that -she had been born to set the world to rights--she and a few others: she -felt that she was not selfish, for she grudged no one a share in the -honours. - -When she reached Mrs. Burr’s house, high on the Avenue, and overlooking -the naked trees and the glittering white of the Park, she found that -other toilettes had taken less time than hers: several of her friends -complimented the occasion with a punctuality which she commended -without envy. - -The large drawing-room, which was to be the scene of operations, was a -marvellous combination of every pale colour known to nature and art, -and looked expectant of white-wigged dames, sparkling with satin and -diamonds, tripping the mazes of the minuet with gentlemen as courtly -as their dress was rich and colourous. But only a half-dozen extremely -smart young women of the hoary Nineteenth Century sat in a group, -talking as fast as seals on a rock; and the slim little hostess was -compactly gowned in pearl-grey cloth, her sleek head dressed in the -fashion of the moment. - -She came forward, a lorgnette held close to her eyes. “How dear of -you, Augusta, to be so prompt!” she said, kissing her lightly. “Dear -me! I wish I could be as frightfully in earnest as the rest of you, -but for the life of me I can’t help feeling that it’s all a jolly good -lark--perhaps that’s the effect of my ex-sister-in-law, Patience -Sparhawk, who says we are only playing at being alive. But we can’t -all have seventeen different experiences before we are twenty-four, -including a sojourn in Murders’ Row, and a frantic love affair with -one’s own husband----” - -“Tell me, Hal, what is a woman like who has been through all that?” -interrupted Augusta, her ears pricking with girlish curiosity. “Is she -eccentric? Does she look old--or something?” - -“She’s not much like us,” said Mrs. Burr, briefly. “You’ll meet her -in time; it’s odd you never happened to, even if you weren’t out. Of -course she can’t go out for awhile yet; it would hardly be good taste, -even if she wanted to.” - -“How interestingly dreadful to have had such a thing in the family. But -I should think she would be just the one to take life seriously.” - -“Oh, she does; that’s the reason she doesn’t waste any time. Here is -someone else. Who is it?--oh, Mary Gallatin.” - -Augusta joined the group. - -“Where is Mabel Creighton?” demanded one of the girls. “I thought she -was coming with you.” - -“Haven’t you heard?” Miss Forbes, with an air of elaborate -indifference, drew her eyelids together as if to focus a half-dozen -women that were entering. “The Duke of Bosworth arrives to-day, and she -has stayed at home to receive him.” - -“Augusta! What do you mean? _What_ Duke of Bosworth?” - -“There is only one duke of the same name at a time, my dear. This -is the Duke of Bosworth of Aire Castle--and I suppose a half-dozen -others--of the West Riding, of the district of Craven, of the County of -Yorkshire, England. He has five other titles, I believe; and enjoys -the honour of the friendship of Fletcher Cuyler.” - -“Well!” - -“Mabel met him abroad, and got to know him quite well; and when he -wrote her that he should arrive to-day, she thought it only hospitable -to stay at home and receive him.” - -“Are they engaged? Augusta, _do_ be an angel.” - -“I am sure I have not the slightest idea whether they are engaged or -not. Mabel always has a flirtation on with somebody.” - -“What is he like? How perfectly funny! How quiet she has kept him. Is -he good-looking--or--well, just like some of the others?” - -“Mabel has merely mentioned him to me, and I have not seen his -photograph.” - -“She’d make a lovely bride; and Mrs. Creighton has such exquisite -taste--St. Thomas’ would be a dream, I suppose he’ll wear a grey suit -with the trousers turned up and a pink shirt. I do hope he won’t walk -up the Avenue with her with a big black cigar in his mouth.” - -“Is that what we came here to talk about?” asked Miss Forbes, severely. -“What difference does it make what a foreign titled thing looks like? -We are here to discuss a question which will one day exterminate the -entire order.” - -“True,” exclaimed a dark-haired distinguished-looking girl who was -mainly responsible for the intellectual reputation of her set, albeit -not exempt from the witchery of fads. “We must stop gossiping and -attend to business. Do you know that I am expected to speak? How am I -to collect my thoughts?” - -“You have so many, Alex,” said Miss Forbes, admiringly, “that it -wouldn’t matter if a few got loose. Have you prepared your speech? I -have mine by heart.” - -“I have thought it out. I don’t think I shall be frightened; it is -really such a very serious matter.” - -“Have you spoken to your father?” - -“Oh, we’ve talked it over, but I can’t say that he agrees with us.” - -Augusta laughed consciously. “There are probably some points of -similarity in our experiences. But we must be firm.” - -Some thirty women, gowned with fashionable simplicity, had arrived, -and were seated in a large double semi-circle. They looked alert and -serious. Mrs. Burr drifted aimlessly about for a moment, then paused -before a table and tapped it smartly with her lorgnette. - -“I suppose we may as well begin,” she said. “I believe we are going -to discuss to-day the--a--the advisability of women having the -vote--franchise. Also Socialism. Miss Maitland, who has thoroughly -digested both subjects, and many more, has kindly consented to speak; -and Dr. Broadhead is coming in later to give us one of his good -scoldings. Alexandra, will you open the ball?” - -“Hal, you are incorrigible,” exclaimed Miss Maitland, drawing her dark -brows together. “At least you might pretend to be in earnest. We think -it very good of you to lend us your house, and we are delighted that -you managed Dr. Broadhead so cleverly, but we don’t wish to be flouted, -for we, at least, are in earnest.” - -“Alexis, if you scold me, I shall cry. And I’ll now be serious--I swear -it. You know I admire you to death. Your French poetry is adorable; -you have more ideas for decorating than any professional in New York, -and you fence like a real Amazon. I am simply dying to hear you make a -speech; but first let me see if Latimer is hiding anywhere.” - -She went out into the hall and returned in a moment. “It would be just -like Latimer to get Fletcher Cuyler and listen, and then guy us. Now, -Alexandra, proceed,” and she seated herself, and applied her lorgnette -to her bright quizzical eyes. - -Miss Maitland, somewhat embarrassed by her introduction, stepped to the -middle of the room and faced her audience. She gave a quick sidelong -glance at her skirts. They stood out like a yacht under full sail. -She was a fine looking girl, far above woman’s height, with dignified -features, a bright happy expression, and a soft colour. She was a -trifle nervous, and opened her jacket to gain time, throwing it back. - -“That’s a Paquin blouse,” whispered a girl confidently to Augusta. - -“Sh-h!” said Miss Forbes severely. - -Miss Maitland showed no further symptom of nervousness. She clasped her -hands lightly and did not make a gesture nor shift her position during -her speech. Her repose was very impressive. - -“I think we should vote,” she said decidedly. “It will not be agreeable -in many respects, and will heavily increase our responsibilities, but -the reasons for far outweigh those against. A good many of us have -money in our own names. We all have large allowances. Some day we may -have the terrible responsibility of great wealth. The income-tax is in -danger of being defeated. If we get the vote, we may do much toward -making it a law, and it is a move in the right direction towards -Socialism. Our next must be towards persuading the Government to take -the railroads. It is shocking that the actual costs of transit should -be so small, the charges so exorbitant and the profits so enormous. -I feel this so oppressively that every time I make a long journey by -rail, I give the equivalent of my fare to the poor at once. It is a -horrifying thing that we on this narrow island of New York city should -live like hothouse plants in the midst of a malarious swamp: that -almost at our back doors the poor are living, whole families in one -room, and on one meal a day. My father gives me many thousands a year -for charity, but charity is not the solution of the problem. There must -be a redistribution of wealth. Of course I have no desire to come down -to poverty; I am physically unfit for it, as are all of us. We should -have sufficient left to insure our comfort; but any woman with brain -can get along without the more extravagant luxuries. It is time that we -did something to justify our existence, and if the law required that -we worked two or three hours a day instead of leading the idle life of -pleasure that we do----” - -“We are ornamental; that is something,” exclaimed a remarkably pretty -woman. “I am sure the people outside love to read about and look at us. -Society gossip is not written for _us_.” - -Miss Maitland smiled. “You certainly are ornamental, Mary,” she said; -“but fancy how much more interesting you would be if you were useful as -well.” - -“I’d lose my good looks.” - -“Well, you can’t keep them forever. You should cultivate a substitute -meanwhile, and then you never need be driven back into the ranks -of _passée_, disappointed women. Faded beauties are a bore to -everybody.” - -“I refuse to contemplate such a prospect. Alex, you are getting to be a -horrid rude advanced New Woman.” - -Mrs. Burr clapped her hands. “How delightful!” she cried, “I didn’t -know we were to have a debate.” - -“Now keep quiet, all of you,” said Miss Maitland; “I have not -finished. Mary Gallatin, don’t you interrupt me again. Now that we -understand this question so thoroughly, we must have more recruits. Of -course, hundreds of women of the upper class are signing the petition -asking for the extension of the franchise to our sex, but few of them -are interested in Socialism. And if it is to be brought about, it -must be by us. I have little faith in the rag-tag bob-tail element at -present enlisted in that cause. They not only carry little weight with -the more intelligent part of the community, but I have been assured -that they would not fight--that they take it out in talk; that if -ever there was a great upheaval, they would let the anarchists do the -killing, and then step in, and try to get control later. - -“Now, I thoroughly despise a coward; so do all women; and I have no -faith in the propagandism of men that won’t fight. What we must do -is to enlist our men. They are luxurious now, and love all that -pertains to wealth; but, as Wellington said once of the same class in -England: ‘The puppies can fight!’ Not that our men are puppies--don’t -misunderstand me--but you know what I mean. They would only seem so to -a man who had spent his life in the saddle. - -“It has been said that the Civil War took our best blood, and that -that is the reason we have no great men now; all the most gallant and -high-minded and ambitious were killed--although I don’t forget that -Mr. Forbes could be anything that he chose. I suppose he thinks that -American statesmanship has fallen so low that he scorns to come out -avowedly as the head of his party, and merely amuses himself pulling -the wires. But I feel positive that if a tremendous crisis ever arose, -it would be Mr. Forbes who would unravel the snarl. You can tell him -that, Augusta, with my compliments. - -“Now, I have come to the real point of what I have to say. It was first -suggested to me by Helena Belmont when she was on here last, and it -has taken a strong hold on my mind. We must awaken the soul in our -men--that is what they lack. The germ is there, but it has not been -developed; perhaps I should say that the soul of the American people -rose to its full flower during the Civil War, and then withered in -the reaction, and in the commercial atmosphere which has since fitted -our nation closer than its own skin. Miss Belmont says that nothing -will arouse the men but another war; that they will be nothing but a -well-fed body with a mental annex until they once more have a ‘big -atmosphere’ to expand in. But I don’t wholly agree with her, and the -thought of another such sacrifice is appalling. I believe that the -higher qualities in man can be roused more surely by woman than by -bloodshed, and that if we, the women of New York, the supposed orchids, -butterflies, or whatever people choose to call us, whose luxury is the -cynosure and envy of the continent, could be instrumental in giving -back to the nation its lost spiritual quality--understand, please, -that I do not use the word in its religious sense--it would be a far -greater achievement than any for which the so-called emancipated women -are vociferating. The vote is a minor consideration. If we acquire -the influence over men that we should, we shall not need it. And -personally, I should dispense with it with great pleasure.” - -“Bravo! young lady,” exclaimed a vibrating resonant voice, and a -clerical man entered the room to the clapping of many hands. His eyes -were keen and restless, his hair and beard black and silver, and there -was a curious disconcerting bald spot on his chin. He looked ready to -burst with energy. - -“Thank you all very much, but don’t clap any more, for I have only a -few minutes to spare. How do you do, Mrs. Burr? Yes, that was a very -good speech--I have been eavesdropping, you see. Feminine, but I am -the last to quarrel with that. It is not necessary for a woman to be -logical so long as her instincts are in the right direction. Well, I -will say a few words to you; but they must be few as I am very hoarse: -I have been speaking all day.” He strode about as he talked, and -occasionally smote his hands together. He was a very emphatic speaker, -and, like all crusaders, somewhat theatrical. - -“I agree with all that Miss Maitland has said to you--with the -exception of her views on Socialism, I don’t believe Socialism to -be the solution of our loathsome municipal degradation nor of the -universal social evil. But I have no time to go into that question -to-day. The other part--that you must awaken the soul of the men of -your class--I most heartily endorse. The gentlemen alone can save -this country--snatch it from the hands of plebeians and thieves. In -them alone lies the hope of American regeneration. When I read of a -strapping young man who has been educated at Harvard, or Yale, or -Princeton, who is an expert boxer, fencer, whip, oarsman, yachtsman, -addicted to all manly sport, in fact--when I read of such a man -having tortoise-shell brushes with diamond monograms, diamond garter -buckles, and thirty sets of silk pyjamas--never see their names in -the paper except as ushers at weddings, or as having added some new -trifle to their costly apartments, it makes me sick--sick! A war -would rouse these young men, as Miss Maitland suggests; I haven’t the -slightest doubt that they would fight magnificently, and that those -who survived would be serious and useful men for the rest of their -lives. But we don’t want war, and you must do the rousing. Make them -vote--vote--nullify the thieving lying cormorants who are fattening on -your country, and ruining it morally and financially, as well as making -it the scorn and jest of Europe. And make them vote, not only this -year, but every year for the rest of their lives, and on every possible -question. It is to be hoped, indeed, that no war will come to awaken -their manhood--we don’t want to pay so hideous a price as that, and it -is shocking that it has been found necessary to suggest it. But what we -do want is a great moral war. Lash them into that, and see that they -do not break ranks until they have honest men in the legislature, in -Congress, and in every municipal office in the country. Now, I must be -off,” and waving a hasty adieu, he shot out. - -“For my part,” said Mrs. Burr, above the enthusiastic chorus, “I -am delighted that he didn’t uphold Socialism. I’ll undertake the -reformation of Latimer, although it will probably give me wrinkles and -turn me grey, but I won’t have him giving up his ‘boodle,’ as they say -out West; not I! not I!” - -“Gally is hopeless,” said that famous clubman’s wife, with a sigh. “I -shall have to work on someone else.” - -“It will be lots more interesting,” murmured her neighbour. - -“How shall we begin?” asked Mrs. Burr, wrinkling her smooth brow. “Put -them on gruel and hot water for awhile? I am sure they are hopeless so -long as they eat and drink so much.” - -“I suppose all we girls will have to marry,” remarked one of them. - -“Well, you would, anyhow,” said Mrs. Burr, consolingly. - -“I shall not marry until I find the right man,” said Augusta firmly, -“not if I die an old maid. But father would be a splendid convert, and -his name would carry great weight.” - -“You mean for Socialism,” replied her hostess. “No man does his -political duty more religiously than Mr. Forbes. But let us send -Socialism to--ahem--and just work at the other thing. I am dying to see -how Latimer will take it.” - -“Never!” exclaimed Augusta, and was echoed loyally. “We must not lose -sight of that. I don’t at all agree with Dr. Broadhead on that point. -I have fully made up my mind to bring papa round.” - -“But you are at a disadvantage, darling,” said Mrs. Burr, drily; “your -beautiful mamma thinks we are all a pack of idiots, and your father has -a great respect for her opinion, to say nothing of being more or less -_épris_.” - -“I shall convert her too,” said Augusta sturdily. - -Mrs. Burr laughed outright. “I can just see Mrs. Forbes posing as a -prophet of Socialism. Well, let us eat. Alexis, you must be limp all -the way down, and your thinker must be fairly staggering. I will pour -you a stiff cup of tea and put some rum in it.” - -Augusta rose. “I must go, Hal,” she said. “I have a speech to make -myself in the slums, you know. Aren’t you coming?” - -“I? God forbid! But do take something before you go. It may save you -from stage-fright.” - -“I haven’t a minute. I must be there in twenty. Who is coming with me?” - -Eight or ten of the company rose and hurried out with her; the rest -gathered about the tea-table and relieved their mental tension in -amicable discussion of the lighter matters of the day. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - - -A FOOTMAN had taken the Duke of Bosworth’s cards up to Miss -Mabel Creighton and her mother. The young man had arrived but an hour -before and still wore his travelling gear, but had been given to -understand that an English peer was welcome in a New York drawing-room -on any terms. The drawing-room in which he awaited the American maiden -who had taken his attenuated fancy was large and sumptuous and very -expensive. There were tables of ormolu, and cabinets of tortoise-shell -containing collections of cameos, fens and miniatures, a _lapis -lazuli_ clock three feet high, and a piano inlaid with twenty-seven -different woods. The walls were frescoed by a famous hand, and there -were lamps and candle-brackets and various articles of decoration -which must have been picked up in extensive travels. - -The Duke noted everything with his slow listless gaze. He sat forward -on the edge of his chair, his chin pressed to the head of his stick. He -was a small delicately-built man, of thirty or more. His shoulders had -rounded slightly. His cheeks and lower lip were beginning to droop. The -pale blue eyes were dim, the lids red. He was a debauchee, but “a good -sort,” and men liked him. - -He did not move during the quarter of an hour he was kept waiting, but -when the _portière_ was pushed aside he rose quickly, and went -forward with much grace and charm of manner. The girl who entered was a -dainty blonde fluffy creature, and looked like a bit of fragile china -in the palatial room. - -“How sweet of you to come so soon,” she said, with frank pleasure. “I -did not expect you for an hour yet. Mamma will be down presently. She -is quite too awfully anxious to meet you.” - -The Duke resumed his seat and leaned back this time, regarding Miss -Creighton through half-closed eyes. His expression was much the same as -when he had inventoried the room. - -“I came to America to see you,” he said. - -The colour flashed to her hair, but she smiled gracefully. “How funny! -Just as if you had run over to pay me an afternoon call. Did the trip -bore you much?” - -“I am always bored at sea when I am not ill. I am usually ill.” - -“Oh! Really? How horrid! I am never ill. I always find the trip rather -jolly. I go over to shop, and that would keep me up if nothing else -did. Well, I think it was very good indeed of you--awfully good--to -brave the horrors of the deep, or rather of your state-room, just to -call on me.” - -She had a babyish voice and a delightful manner. The Duke smiled. He -was really rather glad to see her again. “You were good enough to ask -me to call if I ever came over,” he said, “and it occurred to me that -it would be a jolly thing to do. I only had little detached chats with -you over there, and there were always a lot of Johnnies hanging about. -I felt interested to see you in your own surroundings.” - -“Oh--perhaps you are going to write a book? I have always felt -dreadfully afraid that you were clever. Well, don’t make the mistake of -thinking that we have only one type over here, as they always do when -they come to write us up. There are just ten girls in my particular -set--we have sets within sets, as you do, you know--and we are each one -of us quite different from all the others. We are supposed to be the -intellectual set, and Alexandra Maitland and Augusta Forbes are really -frightfully clever. I don’t know why they tolerate me--probably because -I admire them. Augusta is my dearest friend. Alex pats me on the head -and says that I am the leaven that keeps them from being a sodden lump -of grey matter. I have addled my brains trying to keep up with them.” - -“Don’t; you are much more charming as you are.” - -“Oh, dear! I don’t know. Men always seem to get tired of me,” she -replied, with just how much ingenuousness the Duke could not determine. -“Mrs. Burr says it is because I talk a blue streak and say nothing. -Hal is quite too frightfully slangy. Augusta kisses me and says I -am an inconsequential darling. She made me act in one of Howell’s -comedies once, and I did it badly on purpose, in the hope of raising my -reputation, but Augusta said it was because I couldn’t act. Fletcher -Cuyler, who is the most impertinent man in New York said---- Have you -seen Fletcher?” - -“He came out on the tug to meet me, and left me at the door.” - -“I believe if Fletcher really has a deep down affection for anyone, -it is for you--I mean for any man. He is devoted to all of us, and he -is the only man we chum with. But we wouldn’t have him at the meeting -to-day. Do you know that I should have lent my valuable presence to two -important meetings this afternoon?” - -“Really?” The Duke was beginning to feel a trifle restless. - -“Yes, we are going in frightfully for Socialism, you know--Socialism -and the vote--and--oh, dozens of other things. Alex said we must, and -so we did. It’s great fun. We make speeches. At least, I don’t, but the -others do. Should you like to go to one of our meetings?” - -“I should not!” said the Duke emphatically. - -“Well, you must not make fun of us, for I am simply bent on having -all the girls adore you, particularly Augusta. The other day we had -a lovely meeting. It was here. I have the prettiest boudoir: Alex -designed it. It looks just like a rainbow. I lay on the couch in a gown -to match, and the girls all took off their stiff street frocks and put -on my wrappers, and we smoked cigarettes and ate bon-bons, and read -Karl Marx. It was lovely! I didn’t understand a word, but I _felt_ -intellectual--the atmosphere, you know. When we had finished a chapter -and Alex had expounded it, and quarrelled over it with Augusta, we -talked over all the men we knew, and I am sure men would be lots -better if they knew what girls thought about them. Alex says we must -regenerate them, quicken their souls, so to speak, and I suppose I -may as well begin on you, although you’re not an American, and can’t -vote--we’re for reforming the United States, you know. What is the -state of your soul?” And again she gave her fresh childlike laugh. - -“I haven’t any. Give me up. I am hopeless.” He was arriving at the -conclusion that she was more amusing in detached chats, but reflected -that she was certainly likeable. It was this last pertainment, added to -the rumour of her father’s vast wealth, that had brought him across the -water. - -“I don’t know that I have ever seen one of the--what do they call -them?--advanced women? But I am told that they are not Circean. That, -indeed, seems to be their hall-mark. A woman’s first duty is to be -attractive.” - -“That’s what Fletcher says. Augusta is my most intimate friend, my -very dearest friend, but I never saw a man look as if he was thinking -about falling in love with her. How long shall you stay?” she added -quickly, perceiving that he was tiring of the subject. - -“I?--oh--I don’t know. Until you tell me that I bore you. I may take a -run into Central America with Fletcher.” - -“Into what? Why that’s days, and days, and days from here, and must be -a horrid place to travel in.” - -“I thought Chicago was only twenty-four hours from New York.” - -“Oh, you funny, funny, deliciously funny Englishman! Why Central -America doesn’t belong to the United States at all. It’s ’way down -between North and South America or somewhere. I suppose you mean middle -America. We call Chicago and all that part of the country West.” - -“If it’s middle it’s central,” said the Duke, imperturbably. “You -cannot expect me to command the vernacular of your enormous country in -a day.” - -He rose suddenly. A woman some twenty years older than Mabel had -entered. Her face and air were excessively, almost aggressively -refined, her carriage complacent, a trifle insolent. She was the faded -prototype of her daughter. The resemblance was close and prophetic. - -“My dear Duke,” she said, shaking him warmly by the hand, “I am so -flattered that you have come to us at once, and so glad to have the -opportunity to thank you for your kindness to Mabel when she was in -your dear delightful country. Take that chair, it is so much more -comfortable.” She herself sat upon an upright chair, and laid one -hand lightly over the other. Her repose of manner was absolute. “The -happiest days of my life were spent in England, when I was first -married--it seems only day before yesterday--my husband and I went -over and jaunted about England and Scotland and Wales in the most -old-fashioned manner possible. For six months we rambled here and -there, seeing everything--one was not ashamed of being a tourist in -those days. We would not present a letter, we wanted to have a real -honeymoon: we were so much in love. And to think that Aire Castle is so -near that terrible Strid. I remember that we stood for an hour simply -fascinated. Mr. Creighton wanted to take the stride, but I wouldn’t -let him. He has never been over with me since--he is so busy. I can’t -think how Mr. Forbes always manages to go with his wife, unless it is -true that he is jealous of her--although in common justice I must add -that if she has ever given him cause no one knows it. I suppose it is -on general principles, because she is such a beauty. Still I must say -that if I were a man and married to a Southern woman I should want to -get rid of her occasionally: they _are_ so conceited and they do -rattle on so about nothing. Virginia Forbes talks rather less than -most Southern women; but I imagine that is to enhance the value of her -velvety voice.” - -The Duke, who had made two futile efforts to rise, now stood up -resolutely. - -“I am very sorry----” he began. - -“Oh! _I_ am so sorry you _will_ rush away,” exclaimed his -hostess. “I have barely heard you speak. You must come with us to the -opera to-night. Do. Will you come informally to an early dinner, or -will you join us in the box with Fletcher?” - -“I will join you with Fletcher. And I must go--I have an engagement -with him at the hotel--he is waiting for me. You are very kind--thanks, -awfully. So jolly to be so hospitably received in a strange country.” - -When he reached the side-walk, he drew a long breath. “My God!” he -thought, “Is it a disease that waxes with age? Perhaps they get wound -up sometimes and can’t stop.... And she is pretty now, but it’s -dreadful to have the inevitable sprung on you in that way. What are -the real old women like, I wonder? They must merely fade out like an -old photograph. I can’t imagine one of them a substantial corpse. I -shall feel as if I were married to a dissolving view. She is charming -now, but--oh, well, that is not the only thing to be taken into -consideration.” - -The Creighton house was on Murray Hill. He crossed over to Fifth Avenue -and walked down toward the Waldorf, absently swinging his stick, -regardless of many curious glances. “I wonder,” he thought, “I wonder -if I ever dreamed of a honeymoon with the one woman. If I did, I have -forgotten. What a bore it will be now.” - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - - -AUGUSTA returned home at six o’clock, not flushed with triumph, -for she was too tired, but with an elated spirit. She had stood -on a platform in an East Side hall surrounded by her friends, -and to two dozen bedraggled females had made the first speech of -her life. And it had been a good speech; she did not need assurance -of that. She had stood as well as Alexandra Maitland, but had used -certain little emphatic gestures (she was too independent to imitate -anyone); and she had, with well-bred lack of patronage, assured her -humble sisters, for three quarters of an hour, that they must sign the -petition for Woman Franchise, and make all the other women on the East -Side sign it: in order that they might be able to put down the liquor -trust, reform their husbands, secure good government, and be happy -ever after. She flattered herself that she had not used a single long -word--and she prided herself upon her vocabulary--that she had spoken -with the simplicity and directness which characterized great orators -and writers. Altogether, it was an experience to make any girl scorn -fatigue; and when she entered her boudoir and found Mabel Creighton, -she gave her a dazzling smile of welcome, and embraced her warmly. -Mabel responded with a nervous hug and shed a tear. - -“He’s here!” she whispered ecstatically. - -“Who?--Oh, your Duke. Did he propose right off? Do tell me.” And -she seated herself close beside her friend, and forgot that she was -reforming the United States. - -“No, but he told me that he had come over on purpose to see me.” - -“That’s equal to a proposal,” said Augusta decidedly. “Englishmen are -very cautious. They are much better brought up than ours. Which is only -another warning that we must take ours in hand. It is shocking the way -they frivol. I’d rather you married an American for this reason; but if -you love the Duke of Bosworth, I have nothing to say. Besides, you’re -the vine-and-tendril sort; I don’t know that you’d ever acquire any -influence over a man; so it doesn’t much matter. Now tell me about the -Duke, dearest; I am so glad that he has come.” - -Mabel talked a steady stream for a half-hour, then hurried home to -dress for the evening. - -Mr. Forbes was standing before the fire in the drawing-room when his -daughter entered, apparelled for the opera and subsequent ball. She -wore a smart French gown of pale blue satin, a turquoise comb in her -pale modishly dressed hair, and she carried herself with the spring and -grace of her kind; but she was very pale, and there were dark circles -about her eyes. - -“You look worn out, my dear,” said her father, solicitously. “What have -you been doing?” - -Miss Forbes sank into a chair. “I went to two meetings, one at Hal’s -and one in the slums. I spoke for the first time, and it has rather -taken it out of me.” - -“Would the victory of your ‘cause’ compensate for crow’s feet?” - -“Indeed it would. I really do not care. I am so glad that I have no -beauty to lose. I might not take life so seriously if I had. I am -beginning to have a suspicion that Mary Gallatin and several others -have merely taken up these great questions as a fad. Here comes mamma, -I am glad, for I am hungry. I had no time for tea to-day.” - -A _portière_ was lifted aside by a servant, and Mrs. Forbes -entered the room. But for the majesty of her carriage she looked -younger than her daughter, so exquisitely chiselled were her features, -so fresh and vivid her colouring. Virginia Forbes was thirty-nine and -looked less than thirty. Her tall voluptuous figure had not outgrown a -line of its early womanhood, her neck and arms were Greek. A Virginian -by birth, she inherited her high-bred beauty from a line of ancestors -that had been fathered in America by one of Elizabeth’s courtiers. -Her eyes had the slight fullness peculiar to the Southern woman; the -colour, like that of the hair, was a dark brown warmed with a touch -of red. Her curved, scarlet mouth was not full, but the lips were -rarely without a pout, which lent its aid to the imperious charm of her -face. There were those who averred that upon the rare occasions when -this lovely mouth was off guard it showed a hint in its modelling of -self-will and cruelty. But few had seen it off guard. - -She wore a tiara of diamonds, and on her neck three rows of large -stones depending lightly from fine gold chains. Her gown was of pale -green velvet, with a stomacher of diamonds. On her arm she carried an -opera cloak of emerald green velvet lined with blue fox. - -Mr. Forbes’ cold brilliant eyes softened and smiled as she came toward -him, flirting her lashes and lifting her chin. For this man, whose -eyes were steel during all the hours of light, who controlled the -destinies of railroads and other stupendous enterprises and was the -back-bone of his political party, who had piled up millions as a -child piles up blocks, and who had three times refused the nomination -of his party for the highest gift of the nation, had worshipped his -wife for twenty-two years. He turned toward his home at the close of -each day with a pleasure that never lost its edge, exulting in the -thought that ambition, love of admiration, and the onerous duties -of the social leader could not tempt his wife to neglect him for an -hour. He lavished fortunes upon her. She had an immense allowance to -squander without record, a palace at Newport and another in the North -Carolina mountains, a yacht, and jewels to the value of a million -dollars. In all the years of their married life he had refused her -but one dear desire--to live abroad in the glitter of courts, and -receive the homage of princes. He had declined foreign missions again -and again. “The very breath of life for me is in America,” he had -said with final decision. “And if I wanted office I should prefer the -large responsibilities of the Presidency to the nagging worries of an -Ambassador’s life. The absurdities of foreign etiquette irritate me -now when I can come and go as I like. If they were my daily portion I -should end in a lunatic asylum. They are a lot of tin gods, anyhow, -my dear. As for you, it is much more notable to shine as a particular -star in a country of beauties, than to walk away from a lot of women -who look as if they had been run through the same mould, and are only -beauties by main strength.” And on this point she was forced to submit. -She did it with the better grace because she loved her husband with the -depth and tenacity of a strong and passionate nature. His brain and -will, the nobility and generosity of his character, had never ceased -to exercise their enchantment, despite the men that paid her increasing -court. Moreover, although the hard relentless pursuit of gold had aged -his hair and skin, Mr. Forbes was a man of superb appearance. His -head and features had great distinction; his face, when the hours of -concentration were passed, was full of magnetism and life, his eyes -of good-will and fire. His slender powerful figure betrayed little -more than half of his fifty-one years. He was a splendid specimen of -the American of the higher civilisation: with all the vitality and -enthusiasm of youth, the wide knowledge and intelligence of more than -his years, and a manner that could be polished and cold, or warm and -spontaneous, at will. - -For her daughter, Mrs. Forbes cared less. She had not the order of -vanity which would have dispensed with a walking advertisement of her -years, but she resented having borne an ugly duckling, one, moreover, -that had tiresome fads. She had been her husband’s confidante in -all his gigantic schemes, financial and political, and Augusta’s -intellectual kinks bored her. - -She crossed the room and gave her husband’s necktie a little twist. Mr. -Forbes sustained the reputation of being the best-groomed man in New -York, but it pleased her to think that she could improve him. Then she -fluttered her eyelashes again. - -“Do I look very beautiful?” she whispered. - -He bent his head and kissed her. - -“When you two get through spooning,” remarked Miss Forbes in a tired -voice, “suppose we go in to dinner.” - -“Don’t flatter yourself that it is all for you,” Mrs. Forbes said to -her husband, “I am to meet an English peer to-night.” - -“Indeed,” replied Mr. Forbes, smiling, “Have we another on the market? -What is his price? Does he only want a roof? or will he take the whole -castle, barring the name and the outside walls?” - -“You are such an old cynic. This is the Duke of Bosworth, a very -charming man, I am told. I don’t know whether he is poverty-stricken or -not. I believe he paid Mabel Creighton a good deal of attention in the -autumn, when she was visiting in England.” - -“He wouldn’t get much with her: Creighton is in a tight place. He may -pull out, but he has three children besides Mabel. However, there are -plenty of others to snap at this titled fish, no doubt.” - -“I hope not,” said Augusta. “Dear Mabel is very fond of him; I am sure -of that. He only arrived to-day, and is going with them to the opera -to-night. How are you to meet him?” - -“Fletcher Cuyler will bring him to my box, of course. Are not all -distinguished foreigners brought to my shrine at once?” - -“True,” said Miss Forbes. “But _are_ we going in to dinner? I have -never heard Maurel in _Don Giovanni_, and I don’t want to lose -more than the first act.” - -“There is plenty of it. But let us go in to dinner, by all means.” - - - - -CHAPTER V. - - -THE two tiers of boxes at the Metropolitan Opera House reserved -for the beauty and fashion of New York flashed with the plumage -of women and a thousand thousand gems. Women of superb style, with -little of artifice but much of art, gowned so smartly that only -their intense vitality saved them from confusion with the fashion-plate, -carrying themselves with a royal, albeit somewhat self-conscious air, -many of them crowned like empresses, others starred like night, -producing the effect _en masse_ of resplendent beauty, and individually -of deficiency in all upon which the centuries have set their seal, -hung, two or three in a frame, against the curving walls and red -background of the great house: suspended in air, these goddesses -of a new civilisation, as if with insolent challenge to all that -had come to stare. To the music they paid no attention. They had -come to decorate, not to listen; without them there would be no opera. -The music lovers were stuffed on high, where they seemed to cling to -the roof like flies. The people in the parquette and orchestra chairs, -in the dress-circle and balconies, came to see the hundreds of millions -represented in the grand tier. Two rows of _blasé_ club faces studded -the long omnibus box. Behind the huge sleeves and voluminous skirts -that sheathed their proudest possessions, were the men that had coined -or inherited the wealth which made this triumphant exhibition possible. - -As the curtain went down on the second act and the boxes emptied -themselves of their male kind that other male kind might enter to do -homage, two young men took their stand in the back of a box near the -stage and scanned the house. One of them remarked after a few moments: - -“I thought that all American women were beautiful. So far, I see only -one.” - -“These are the New York fashionettes, my dear boy. Their pedigree is -too short for aristocratic outline. You will observe that the pug is -as yet unmitigated. Not that blood always tells, by any means: some of -your old duchesses look like cooks. Our orchids travel on their style, -grooming, and health, and you must admit that the general effect is -stunning. Who is your beauty?” - -“Directly in the middle of the house. Gad! she’s a ripper.” - -“You are right. That is the prettiest woman in New York. And her -pedigree is probably as good as yours.” - -“Who is she?” - -“Mrs. Edward R. Forbes, the wife of one of the wealthiest and most -powerful men in the United States.” - -“Really!” - -“That is her daughter beside her.” - -“Her what!” - -“I always enjoy making that shot. It throws a flash-light on the -pitiful lack of originality in man every time. But it is nothing for -the petted wife of an American millionaire to look thirty when she is -forty. It’s the millionaire who looks sixty when he is fifty. I’m not -including Forbes, by the way. That tall man of fine physique that has -just left the box is he.” - -“Poor thing!” - -“Oh, don’t waste any pity on Forbes. He’s the envy of half New York. -She is devoted to him, and with good reason: there are few men that -can touch him at any point. I shall take you over presently. The first -thing a distinguished stranger, who has had the tip, does when he -comes to New York is to pay his court at that shrine. What a pity you -are booked. That girl will come in for forty millions.” - -The other set his face more stolidly. - -“Pounds?” - -“Oh, no--dollars. But they’ll do.” - -“I have not spoken as yet, although I don’t mind saying that that is -what I came over for.” - -“I suppose you are in pretty deep--too deep to draw out?” - -“I don’t know that I want to. I can be frank with you, Fletcher. Is -her father solid? American fortunes are so deucedly ricketty. I am -perfectly willing to state brutally that I wouldn’t--couldn’t--marry -Venus unless I got a half million (pounds) with her and something of an -income to boot.” - -“As far as I know Creighton stands pretty well toward the top. You -can never tell though: American fortunes are so exaggerated. You -see, the women whose husbands are worth five millions can make pretty -much the same splurge as the twenty or thirty million ones. They know -so well how to do it. For the matter of that there’s one clever old -_parvenu_ here who has never handled more than a million and a -half--as I happen to know, for I’m her lawyer--and who entertains -with the best of them. Her house, clothes, jewels, are gorgeous. -A shrewd old head like that can do a lot on an income of seventy -thousand dollars a year. But Forbes, I should say, is worth his twenty -millions--that’s allowing for all embellishments--if he’s worth a -dollar, and Augusta is the only child. Unless America goes bankrupt, -she’ll come in for two-thirds of that one of these days, and an immense -dot meanwhile.” - -At this moment Miss Creighton, who had been talking with charming -vivacity to a group of visitors, dismissed them with tactful badinage, -and beckoned to the two men in the back of the box. - -“Sit down,” she commanded. “What do you think, Fletcher? I stayed away -from two important meetings to-day in order to receive the Duke. Was -not that genuine American hospitality?” - -She spoke lightly; but as her eyes sought the Englishman’s, something -seemed to flutter behind her almost transparent face. - -“These fads! These fads!” exclaimed the young man addressed as -Fletcher. “Have you resigned yourself to the New Woman, Bertie? The -New York variety is innocuous. They just have a real good time and the -newspapers take them seriously and write them up, which they think is -lovely.” - -“Nobody pays any attention to Fletcher Cuyler,” said Miss Creighton -with affected disdain. “We will make you all stare yet.” - -The Duke smiled absently. He was looking toward the box in the middle -of the tier. - -“I think women should have whatever diversion they can find or invent,” -he said. “Society does not do much for them.” - -The curtain rose. - -“Keep quiet,” ordered Cuyler. “I allow no talking in a box which I -honour with my presence. That isn’t what _I_ ruin myself for.” - -He was a tail nervous blonde bald-headed man of the Duke’s age, with -an imp-like expression and dazzling teeth. Despite the fact that he -was unwealthed, he was a fixed star in New York society; he not only -knew more dukes and princes than any other man in the United States, -but was intimate with them. He had smart English relatives and was a -graduate of Oxford, where he had been the chosen friend of the heir to -the Dukedom of Bosworth. His excessive liveliness, his adaptability and -versatility, his audacity, eccentricities, cleverness, and his utter -disregard of rank, had made him immensely popular in England. He was -treated as something between a curio and a spoilt child; and if people -guessed occasionally that his head was peculiarly level, they but -approved him the more. - -When the act was done and the box again invaded, Cuyler carried the -Englishman off to call on Mrs. Forbes. Her box was already crowded, -and Mr. Forbes stood just outside the door. As the Duke was introduced -to him, he contracted his eyelids, and a brief glance of contempt shot -from eyes that looked twenty years younger than the fish-like orbs -which involuntarily twitched as they met that dart. But Mr. Forbes -was always courteous, and he spoke pleasantly to the young man of his -father, whom he had known. - -Cuyler entered the box. “Get out,” he said, “everyone of you. I’ve got -a live duke out there. He’s mortgaged for the rest of the evening and -time’s short.” He drove the men out, then craned his long neck round -the half-open door. - -“Dukee, dukee,” he called, “come hither.” - -The Duke, summoning what dignity he could, entered, and was presented. -After he had paid a few moments’ court to Mrs. Forbes, Cuyler deftly -changed seats with him and plunged into an animated dispute with his -hostess anent the vanishing charms of _Don Giovanni_. - -The Duke leaned over Miss Forbes’ chair with an air of languor, which -was due to physical fatigue, contemplating her absently, and not -taking the trouble to more than answer her remarks. Nevertheless, his -prolonged if indifferent stare disturbed the girl who had known little -susceptibility to men. There was something in the cold regard of his -eye, the very weariness of his manner, which had its charm for the type -of woman who is responsive to the magnetism of inertia, whom a more -vital force repels. And his title, all that it represented, the pages -of military glory it rustled, appealed to the mind of the American girl -who had felt the charm of English history. She was not a snob; she -had given no thought to marrying a title; and if the man had repelled -her, she would have relegated him to that far outer circle whence all -were banished who bored her or achieved her disapproval; but a thin -spell emanated from this cold self-contained personality and stirred -her languid pulse. Practical as she was, she had a girl’s imagination, -and she saw in him all that he had not, haloed with an ancient title; -behind him a great sweep of historical canvas. Then she remembered her -friend; and envied her with the most violent emotion of her life. - -“Well, what do you think of her?” asked Cuyler of the Duke, as they -walked down the lobby. “I don’t mean _la belle dame sans merci_; -there’s only one opinion on that subject. But Augusta? do you think you -could stand her? If Forbes took the notion he’d come down with five -million dollars without turning a hair.” - -“I could swallow her whole and without a grimace,” said the Duke drily. -“But I am half, two-thirds committed. I have no intention of making -Miss Creighton ridiculous, although I shall be obliged to tell her -father frankly that I cannot marry her unless he comes down with half -a million. It’s a disgusting thing to do, but I have no choice.” - -“Oh, don’t go back on Mabel, of course. But I am sorry. However, -_nous verrons_. If Creighton doesn’t come to time, let me know. -I am pretty positive I can arrange the other: I think I know my fair -compatriot’s weak spot. I suppose you go on with the Creightons to the -big affair at the Schemmerhorn-Smiths to-night? Well, give Augusta a -quarter of an hour or so of your flattering attentions. It will do no -harm, in any event. I feel like a conspirator, but I’d like to see you -on your feet. Gad! I wish I had a title; I wouldn’t be in debt as long -as you have been.” - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - - -THE next day Cuyler took the Duke to call on Mrs. Forbes -in her house. It was five o’clock and the lamps were lit. Augusta’s -particular set were there, talking Socialism over their tea, and -enlightening a half-dozen young men and elderly club _roués_, who -listened with becoming gravity. Mrs. Forbes sat somewhat apart by the -tea-table talking to three or four men on any subject but Socialism. -She wore a gown of dark-red velvet with a collar of Venetian lace and -sat in a large high-backed chair of ebony, inlaid with ivory. The seat -was also high, and she looked somewhat like a queen on her throne, -graciously receiving the homage of her courtiers. The drawing-room -was twice as large as the Creighton’s, the Duke noted as he entered. -It was hung with dark-green velvet embroidered with a tree design in -wood colour an inch thick. Every shade of green blended in the great -apartment, and there was no other colour but the wood relief and the -pink of the lamp-shades. - -Mrs. Forbes did not rise, but she held out her hand to the stranger -with so spontaneous a warmth that he felt as if he were receiving his -first welcome in transatlantic parts. She had not shaken hands with him -at the opera, and their brief conversation had been over her shoulder; -he now found that her eyes and hand, her womanly magnetism and almost -regal manner combined to effect the impression: “New York, _c’est -moi_. My hospitality to the elect few who win my favour is sincere -and unbounded, the bitter envy of the cold and superfluous stranger -without its gates; and, of all men, my dear Duke of Bosworth, you are -the most genuinely welcome.” - -He wondered a little how she did it, but did not much care. It was a -large beautiful gracious presence, and he was content, glad to bask in -it. He forgot Augusta and Mabel, and took a low chair before her. - -“I won’t ask you how you like New York,” she said, smiling again. She -half divined his thoughts, and saw that he was clever despite an entire -indifference to his natural abilities; and the sympathy of her nature -conveyed what she thought. - -“Oh, I do--now,” he replied with unwonted enthusiasm. “I must say that -the blind rush everybody seems to be in is a trifle disconcerting -at first--it makes an Englishman feel, rather, as if his youngest -child--the child of his old age, as it were, was on a dead run, and -that he must rush after to see what it was all about or be left behind -like an old fogey. Upon my word I feel fully ten years older than I did -when I landed.” - -She laughed so heartily that he felt a sudden desire to say something -really clever, and wondered why he usually took so little trouble. - -“That is the very best statement of one of our racial differences I -have heard,” she said; “I shall remember to tell it to my husband. He -will be delighted. I feel the rush myself at times, for I was born in -a far more languid climate. But New York is an electrifying place; it -would fascinate you in time.” - -“It fascinates me already!” he said gallantly, “and it is certainly -reposeful here.” - -“It is always the same, particularly at five o’clock,” she replied. - -“Does that mean that I can drop in sometimes at this hour?” - -“_Will_ you?” - -“I am afraid I shall be tempted to come every day.” - -“That would be our pleasure,” and again she smiled. It was a smile that -had warmed older hearts than the weary young profligate’s. “Augusta is -almost invariably here and I usually am. Occasionally I drive down to -bring my husband home.” - -The Duke understood her perfectly. Her graceful pleasure in meeting -him was not to be misconstrued. As she turned to greet a new comer he -regarded her closely. If she had not taken the trouble to convey her -subtle warning, he should have guessed that she loved her husband. Then -he fell to wondering what sort of a man Forbes was to have developed -the abundant harvest of such a woman’s nature. “She could easily have -been made something very different in the wrong hands,” he thought, -“and not in one respect only but in many. What a mess I should have -made of a nature like that! Little Miss Creighton, with her meagre -and neutral make-up is about all I am equal to. This woman might have -lifted me up once; but more likely I should have dragged her down. She -is all woman, the kind that is controlled and moulded by the will of a -man.” - -His eyes rested on her mouth. “She will hurt Forbes some day, give him -a pretty nasty time; but it won’t be because she doesn’t love him. -And--she’ll make him forget--when she gets ready. A man would forgive a -woman like that anything.” - -She turned suddenly and met his eyes. “What are you thinking?” she -demanded. - -“That Mr. Forbes must be a remarkable man,” he answered quickly. He -rose. “I must go over and speak to Miss Forbes; but I shall come back.” - -Mabel’s eyes were full of coquettish reproach. Augusta chaffed him for -forgetting their existence. Her manner was not her mother’s, but it was -high-bred, and equally sincere. She presented him to the other girls, -and to Mrs. Burr, who lifted her lorgnette, and regarded him with a -prolonged and somewhat discomforting stare. But it was difficult to -embarrass the Duke of Bosworth. He went over and sat beside Mabel. - -“I think I met him once,” said Mrs. Burr to Augusta, “but he is so very -unindividual that I cannot possibly remember.” - -“I think he is charming,” said Miss Forbes. “I had quite a talk with -him last night.” - -“He doesn’t look stupid, but he’s not precisely hypnotic.” - -“Oh, there’s _something_ about him!” exclaimed one of the other -girls. “I feel sure that he’s fascinating.” - -“He looks as though he knew so much of the world,” said another, with -equal enthusiasm. - -“What’s the matter with us?” demanded one of the young men. - -“You haven’t a title,” said Mrs. Burr. - -“Hal, you are quite too horrid. I have not thought of his title--not -once. But Norry, you _can’t_ look like that, no matter how hard -you try.” - -“Oh yes I can; it’s not so hard as you imagine; only it’s not my -chronic effect. When I am--ah--indiscreet enough to produce it, I have -the grace to keep out of sight.” - -“That is not what I mean.” - -“Oh, he is an Englishman--with a title,” said the young man, huffily. -“Miss Maitland, have you caught the fever?” - -“I have either had all, or have outgrown the children’s diseases, and -I class the title-fever among them. I know that some get it late in -life, but some people will catch anything. Our old butler has just had -the mumps.” - -“That’s a jolly way of looking at it.” - -“Oh you men are not altogether exempt,” said Mrs. Burr. “But the -funniest case is Ellis Davis. He’s just come back from London with -a wild Cockney accent, calls himself ‘Daivis,’ and says ‘todai’ and -the Princess of ‘Wailes,’ and ‘paiper.’ Probably he also says ‘caike’ -and ‘laidy.’ I can’t think where he got it, for he must have had -_some_ letters, and you may bet your prospects he presented them.” - -“Possibly he saw more of the hotel servants and his barber than he did -of the others,” suggested Miss Maitland. - -“Or his ear may be defective, or his memory bad, and he got mixed,” -replied Mrs. Burr. “We’ll give him the benefit of the doubt; but I -can’t think why the most original people on earth want to imitate -anyone. And yet they say we hate the English. Great heaven! Why, we -even drink the nasty concoction called English breakfast tea, a brand -the English villagers would not give tuppence a pound for, simply -because it has the magic word tacked on to it.” - -“We don’t hate the English,” said Augusta. “What nonsense. The Irish -do, and the politicians toady to the Irish and control certain of the -newspapers. That is all there is in it; but they make the most noise.” - -“And _we_ grovel,” said Mrs. Burr. “It is a pity we can’t strike a -happy medium.” - -“I think the greater part of the nation is indifferent,” said Miss -Maitland, “or at all events recognises the bond of blood and gratitude.” - -The Duke was making his peace with Mabel. - -“I was afraid I bored you this morning,” he said, “it is good of you -not to tell me that you don’t want to talk to me again for a week.” - -“You only stayed an hour. Did it seem so long?” - -“I never paid a call of twenty minutes before,” he said unblushingly. - -“Oh, how sweet of you!” - -“Not at all. Can I walk home with you? Is that proper?” - -“Oh, there will be a lot of us together; and they will all want to talk -to you.” - -“My valuable conversation shall be devoted to you alone.” He hesitated -a moment. “Shall you be at home this evening?” - -She looked down, tucking the end of her glove under her cuff. “Yes, I -rarely go out two nights in succession.” - -“May I call again?” - -“Yes.” - -She looked up and met his eyes. “It has to be done,” thought the -Englishman, “there’s no getting out of it now, and I may as well take -the plunge and get over it. And she certainly is likeable.” - -“They are going now,” said Mabel. - -He went over to Mrs. Forbes to make his adieux. - -“I haven’t given you any tea,” she said. “It was stupid of me to forget -it. You must come back to-morrow and have a cup.” - -“I shall come--for the tea,” he said. - -“And you must dine with us? Some day next week--Thursday?” - -“Thanks, awfully; I’ll come on any pretence.” - -“You must--Fletcher, take the Duke into the dining-room. It is so cold -outside.” - -And to this invitation the Duke responded with no less grace, then -walked home with Mabel and left her at her door, happy and elated. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - - -MR. FORBES stood in his office, his eyes rivetted on a narrow -belt of telegraph ticking which slipped loosely through his hands, yard -after yard, from a machine on the table. As it fell to the floor and -coiled and piled about him, until the upper part of his body alone was -visible, it seemed to typify the rising waters of Wall Street. Outside, -the city was white and radiant, under snow and electric light. In the -comfortable office the curtains were drawn, a gas log flamed in the -grate, and the electric loops were hot. - -Mr. Forbes had stood motionless for an hour. His hat was on the back of -his head. His brow was corrugated. His lips were pressed together, his -eyes like flint. The secretary and clerk had addressed him twice, but -had been given no heed. The hieroglyphics on that strip of white paper -sliding so rapidly through his fingers had his brain in their grip. For -the moment he was a financial machine, nothing more. - -Suddenly the ticking was softly brushed from his hands, the coils about -him kicked apart by a little foot, and he looked down into the face of -his wife. She was enveloped in sables; her cheeks were brilliant with -the pink of health and cold. Mr. Forbes’ brow relaxed; he drew a deep -sigh and removed his hat. - -“Well! I am glad I came for you,” she exclaimed. “I believe you would -have stood there all night. You looked like a statue. Is anything -wrong?” - -“I have merely stood here and watched a half million drift through my -fingers,” he said. “Northern Consolidated is dropping like a parachute -that won’t open. But let us go home. I am very glad you came down.” - -When they were in the brougham she slipped her hand into his under -cover of the rug. “Are you worried?” she asked. - -“No; I don’t know that I am. I can hold on, and when this panic is over -the stock will undoubtedly go up again. I have only a million in it. -But I am sorry for Creighton. About two-thirds of all he’s got are in -this railroad, and I’m afraid he won’t be able to hold on. But let us -drop the subject. The thing has got to rest until to-morrow morning, -and I may as well rest, too. Besides, nothing weighs very heavily when -I am at home. Are we booked for anything to-night?” - -“There is Mary Gallatin’s _musicale_. She has Melba and Maurel. -And there is the big dance at the Latimer Burr’s. But if you are tired -I don’t care a rap about either. Augusta can go with Harriet.” - -“Do stay home; that’s a good girl. I am tired; and what is worse, a lot -of men will get me into the smoking-room and talk ‘slump.’ If I could -spend the evening lying on the divan in your boudoir, while you read or -played to me, I should feel that life was quite all that it should be.” - -“Well, you shall. We have so few good times together in winter.” - -He pressed her hand gratefully. “Tell me,” he said after a moment, “do -you think this Socialism mooning of Augusta’s means anything?” - -“No,” she said contemptuously. “I hope that has not been worrying you. -Girls must have their fads. Last year it was pink parrots; this year it -is Socialism; next year it will be weddings. By the way, what do you -think of the Duke?” - -“I can’t say I’ve thought about him at all.” - -“He is really quite charming.” - -“Is he? His title is, I suppose you mean. Have you seen him since?” - -“Since when? Oh, the night of _Don Giovanni_. I forgot that you -had not been home to tea this week. He has dropped in with Fletcher -several times.” - -“Ah! Well, I hope he improves on acquaintance. What does Augusta think -of this magnificent specimen of English manhood?” - -“I think she rather likes him. She has seen much more of him than I -have, and says that she finds him extremely interesting.” - -“_Good_ God!” - -“But he must have something to him, Ned dear, for Augusta is very -_difficile_. I never heard her say that a man was interesting -before.” - -“And she has been surrounded by healthy well-grown self-respecting -Americans all her life. The infatuation for titles is a germ disease -with Americans, more particularly with New Yorkers. The moment the -microbe strikes the blood, inflammation ensues, and the women that get -it don’t care whether the immediate cause is a man or a remnant. Is his -engagement to Mabel Creighton announced?” - -“No; she told Augusta that he had spoken to her but not to her -father--that Mr. Creighton was in such a bad humour about something -she thought it best to wait a while. I suppose it is this Northern -Consolidated business.” - -“It certainly is. And if the Dukelet is impecunious, I am afraid Mabel -won’t get him, for there will be nothing to buy him with. Don’t speak -of this, however. Creighton may pull through: the stock may take a -sudden jump, or he may have resources of which I know nothing. I -should be the last to hint that he was in a hole. Don’t talk any more -here; it strains the voice so.” - -They were jolting over the rough stones of Fifth Avenue, where speech -rasped and wounded the throat. The long picturesque street of varied -architecture throbbed with the life of a winter’s afternoon. The swarm -of carriages on the white highway looked like huge black beetles with -yellow eyes, multiplying without end. The sidewalks were crowded with -opposing tides; girls of the orchid world, brightly dressed, taking -their brisk constitutional; young men, smartly groomed, promenading -with the ponderous tread of fashion; business men, rushing for the -hotels where they could hear the late gossip of Wall Street; the -rockets of the opera company, splendidly arrayed, and carrying -themselves with a haughty swing which challenged the passing eye; and -the contingent that had come to stare. But snow-clouds had brought -an early dusk, and all were moving homeward. By the time the Forbes -reached their house in the upper part of the Avenue the sidewalks were -almost deserted, and snow stars were whirling. - -The halls and dining-room of the Forbes mansion were hung with -tapestries; all the rooms, though home-like, were stately and imposing, -subdued in colour and rich in effect. But if the house had been -designed in the main as a proper setting for a very great lady, one -boudoir and bedroom were the more personal encompassment of a beautiful -and luxurious woman. The walls and windows and doors of the boudoir -were hung with raw silk, opal hued. The furniture was covered with the -same material. On the floor was a white velvet carpet, touched here and -there with pale colour. The opal effect was enhanced by the lamps and -ornaments, which cunningly simulated the gem. In one corner was a small -piano, enamelled white and opalized by the impressionist’s brush. - -The pink satin on the walls of the bedroom gleamed through the delicate -mist of lace. A shower of lace half-concealed the low upholstered bed. -The deep carpet was pink, the dressing-table a huge pink and white -butterfly, with furnishings of pink coral inlaid with gold. A small -alcove was walled with a looking-glass. Every four years, when Mr. -Forbes was away at the National Convention, his wife refurnished these -rooms. She was a woman of abounding variety and knew its potence. - -Mr. Forbes passed the evening on the divan in the boudoir, while his -wife, attired in a _negligée_ of corn-coloured silk, her warm, -heavy hair unbound, played Chopin with soft, smothered touch for an -hour, then read to him the latest novel. It was one of many evenings, -and when he told her that he was the happiest man alive, she remarked -to herself: “It would be the same. I love him devotedly. Nevertheless, -during these next few weeks he shall not be allowed to forget just how -happy I do make him.” - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - - -FLETCHER CUYLER was banging with all his might on the upright -piano in one corner of the parlour of his handsome bachelor apartment. -The door was thrown open and the servant announced in a solemn voice: - -“His Grace, the Duke of Bosworth, sir.” - -A bald crown and a broad grin appeared for a moment above the top of -the piano. - -“Sit down. Make yourself easy while I finish this. It’s a bravura I’m -composing.” And he returned to the keys. - -“I wish you’d stop that infernal racket,” said the Duke peevishly. -“It’s enough to tear the nerves out of a man’s body. Besides, I want to -talk to you.” - -But Cuyler played out his bravura to the thundering end; then came -leaping down the room, swinging his long legs in the air as if they -were strung on wires. - -The Duke was staring into the fire, huddled together. He looked sullen -and miserable. - -“Hallo!” cried his host. “What’s up? Anything wrong?” - -“Nothing particular. I’ve made an infernal mess of things, that’s all. -I hear on good authority that Creighton has never been worth more than -a million or so at any time, and is losing money; and, without conceit, -I believe I could have had Miss Forbes.” - -“Conceit? You’d be a geranium-coloured donkey if you had the remotest -doubt of the fact. She’s fairly lunged at you. I’ve known Augusta -Forbes since she was in long clothes--she was called ‘Honey’ until -she was ten, if you can believe it; but at that age she insisted upon -Augusta or nothing. Well, where was I?--I never knew her to come off -her perch before. She always went in more or less for the intellectual, -and of late has been addling her poor little brain with the problems of -the day. Well, the end is not yet. Have you spoken to Mr. Creighton?” - -“No; I barely have the honour of his acquaintance. Upon the rare -occasions when he graces his own table he’s as solemn as a mummy. I’m -willing to admit that I have not yet summoned up courage to ask him for -an interview. He’s polite enough, but he certainly is not encouraging.” - -“Oh, all the big men are grumpy just now. The richer they are the more -they have to lose. Well, whichever way it works out, you have my best -wishes. I’d like to see Aire Castle restored.” - -“I believe in my heart that’s all I’m in this dirty business for. I -don’t enjoy the sensation of the fortune-hunter. If I have any strong -interest left in life beyond seeing the old place as it should be I am -not conscious of it.” - -“Come, come, Bertie, brace up, for God’s sake. Have a brandy and soda. -You’ll be blowing your brains out the first thing I know. Can’t you get -up a little sentiment for Mabel Creighton? She’s a dear little thing.” - -“I loved one woman once, and after she had ruined me, she left me for -another man.” He gave a short laugh. “She didn’t have the decency to -offer to support me, although she was making a good £60 a week. I don’t -appear to be as fortunate as some of my brothers. Oh, we are a lovely -lot.” He drank the brandy and soda, and resumed: “I have no love left -in me for any woman. Mabel Creighton is a girl to be tolerated, that -is all; and more so than Miss Forbes. Nevertheless, I wish I had taken -things more slowly and met the latter before I was committed. You may -as well be killed for a sheep as a lamb, and I am afraid I am not going -to get enough with Miss Creighton to make it worth while. If he offered -me two hundred thousand pounds, I don’t believe I’d have the assurance -to refuse.” - -The servant entered and thrust out a granitic arm, at the end of which -was a wedgewood tray supporting a note. - -“From Mrs. Forbes,” said Cuyler. He read the note. “She wants to see me -at once,” he added. “I wonder what’s up. Well, I must leave you. Go or -stay, just as you like. And good luck to you.” - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - - -THE Englishman sat tapping the top of his shoe with his stick -for some moments after Cuyler had left, then rose abruptly, left the -building, and hailing a hansom, drove down town to Mr. Creighton’s -office in the Equitable Building. The elevator shot him up to the fifth -floor, and after losing his way in the vast corridors several times, he -was finally steered to his quarry. - -A boy who sat by a table in the private hall-way reading the sporting -extra of an evening newspaper, took in his card. Mr. Creighton saw -him at once. The room into which the Duke was shown was large, simply -furnished, and flooded with light. The walls seemed to be all windows. -The roar of Broadway came faintly up. A telegraph machine in the corner -ticked intermittently, and slipped forth its coils of clean white -ticking, so flimsy and so portentous. From an inner office came the -sound of a type-writer. - -Mr. Creighton rose and shook hands with his visitor, then closed the -door leading into the next room and resumed his seat by a big desk -covered with correspondence. He had a smooth-shaven determined face -that had once been very good-looking, but there were bags under the -anxious eyes, and his cheeks were haggard and lined. - -“He is a man of few words--probably because his wife is a woman of so -many,” thought the Duke. “I suppose I shall have to begin.” - -He was not a man of many words himself. - -“I have come down here,” he said, “because it seems impossible to find -you at your house, and it is necessary that I should speak to you on a -matter that concerns us both. I came to America to ask your daughter to -marry me.” - -“Have you done so?” - -“I have.” - -“Has she accepted you?” - -“Of course she wishes to refer the matter to you.” - -“She wishes to marry you?” - -“I think she does.” - -Mr. Creighton sighed heavily. He wheeled about and looked through the -window. - -“I wish she could,” he said,--“if she loves you. I don’t know you. I -haven’t had time to think about you. I should prefer that she married -an American, myself, but I should never have crossed her so long as -she chose a gentleman and a man of honour. I know nothing of your -record. Were the marriage possible, I should enquire into it. But I -am afraid that it is not. I am well aware--pardon my abruptness--that -no Englishman of your rank comes to America for a wife if his income -is sufficient to enable him to marry in his own country.” He paused -a moment. Then he resumed. The effort was apparent. “I must ask your -confidence for a time--but it is necessary to tell you that I am -seriously involved; in short, if things don’t mend, and quickly, I -shall go to pieces.” - -The Duke was sitting forward, staring at the carpet, his chin pressed -hard upon the head of his stick. “I am sorry,” he said, “very sorry.” - -“So am I. Mabel has two hundred thousand dollars of her own. I have as -much more, something over, in land that is as yet unmortgaged; but -that is not the amount you came for.” - -The Duke of Bosworth was traversing the most uncomfortable moments of -his life. He opened his mouth twice to speak before he could frame a -reply that should not insult his host and show himself the exponent of -a type for which he suddenly experienced a profound disgust. - -“Aire Castle,” he said finally, “is half a ruin. All the land I have -inherited which is not entailed is mortgaged to the hilt. I may add -that I also inherited about half of the mortgages. My income is a -pittance. It would cost two hundred thousand pounds to repair the -castle--and until it is repaired, I have no home to offer a wife. In -common justice to a woman, I must look out that she brings money with -her. That is my position. It is a nasty one. It is good of you not to -call me a fortune-hunter and order me out.” - -“Well, well, at least you have not intimated that you are conferring an -inestimable honour in asking me to regild your coronet. I appreciate -your position, it is ugly. So is mine. Thank you for being frank.” - -The Englishman rose. He held out his hand. “I hope you’ll come out all -right,” he said, with a sudden and rare burst of warmth. “I do indeed. -Good luck to you.” - -Mr. Creighton shook his hand heartily. “Thank you. I won’t. But I’m -glad you feel that way.” - -He went with his guest to the outer door. The boy had disappeared. Mr. -Creighton opened the door. The Duke was about to pass out. He turned -back, hesitated a moment. “I shall go up and see your daughter at -once,” he said. “Have I your permission to tell her what--what--you -have told me?” - -“Yes,” said Mr. Creighton. “She must know sooner or later.” - - - - -CHAPTER X. - - -THE Duke did not call a hansom when he reached the street. The -interview to come was several times more trying to face than the last -had been; he preferred to walk the miles between the Equitable Building -and Murray Hill. - -He reached the house in an hour. Miss Creighton was in the library -reading a novel by the fire, and looked up brightly as he entered. - -“You are a very bad man,” she said, “I have waited in for you all day, -and it is now half-past four. I am reading Kenilworth. The love scenes -are too funny for words. Amy hangs upon Leicester’s neck and exclaims -‘My noble earl!’ Fancy if I called you ‘My noble duke.’ How perfectly -funny!” - -The Duke took his stand on the hearth-rug--man’s immemorial citadel of -defence--and tapped his chin with his hat, regarding Mabel stolidly -with his fishy pale-blue gaze. He was cross and uncomfortable and hated -himself, but his face expressed nothing. - -“I have seen your father,” he said. - -“Oh--have you? What--what did he say?” - -“When I asked you to marry me I explained how I was situated.” - -“I know--won’t papa?--He’s very generous.” - -“He can’t. He is very seriously embarrassed.” - -The girl’s breath shortened painfully. She turned very white. -Unconsciously she twisted her hands together. - -“Then we cannot marry?” - -“How can we? Do you want to spend your life hounded by lawyers, -money-lenders, and financial syndicates, and unable to keep up your -position? You would die of misery, poor child. I am not a man to make a -woman happy on three hundred thousand pounds a year. Poor! It would be -hell.” - -She did not look up, but sat twirling her rings. - -“You know best,” she said, “I don’t know the conditions of life in -England. If you say that we should be miserable, you must know. I -suppose you did not love me very much.” - -“Not much, Mabel. I have only the skeleton of a heart in me. I wonder -it does duty at all. You are well rid of me.” - -“You certainly did not make any very violent protestations. I cannot -accuse you of hypocrisy.” - -“One thing--I was not half good enough for you. As far as I can -remember this is the first time I have ever humbled myself. You are a -jolly little thing and deserve better luck.” - -She made no reply. - -“I shall cross almost immediately--shall give it out that you have -refused me.” - -“You need not. I have told no one but Augusta. People will think -that we are merely good friends. We will treat each other in a frank -off-hand manner when we meet out.” - -“You are a game little thing! You’d make a good wife, a good fellow to -chum with. I wish it could have come round our way.” - -He was quick of instinct, and divined that she wanted to be alone. - -“_Au revoir_,” he said. “We meet to-night at dinner, somewhere, -don’t we?” - -“At the Burr’s.” She rose and held out her hand. She was very pale, -but quite composed, and her flower-like face had the dignity which -self-respect so swiftly conceives and delivers. He had never been so -near to loving her. She had bored him a good deal during the past -weeks, but he suddenly saw possibilities in her. They were not great, -but they would have meant something to him. He wanted to kiss her, but -raised her hand to his lips instead, and went out. - -Mabel waited until she heard the front door close, then ran up to her -room and locked herself in. - -“I mustn’t cry,” was her only thought for the moment. - -“I mustn’t--mustn’t! My eyes are always swollen for four hours and my -nose gets such a funny pink. I remember Augusta once quoted some poetry -about it. I forget it.” - -She looked at the divan. It exerted a powerful magnetism. She saw -herself lying face downward, sobbing. She caught hold of a chair to -hold herself back. “I can’t!” she thought. “I can’t! I must brace up -for that dinner. The girls must never know. Oh! I wish I were dead! I -wish I were dead!” - -“I wish I were dead!” She said it aloud several times, thinking it -might lighten the weight in her breast. But it did not. She looked at -the clock and shuddered. “It is only five. What am I to do until Lena -comes to dress me? She won’t come until half-past six. I can’t go to -mamma; she would drive me distracted. Oh! I think I am going mad--but I -_won’t_ make a fool of myself.” - -She walked up and down the room, clenching her hands until the nails -bit the soft palms. “I read somewhere,” she continued aloud, “that -the clever people suffered most, that their nerves are more developed -or something. I wonder what that must be like. Poor things! I am not -clever, and I feel as if I’d dig my grave with my own fingers if I -could get into it. Oh! Am I going to cry? I won’t. I’ll think about -something that will make me angry. Augusta. She’ll get him now. She’s -wanted him from the first. I’ve seen it. She was honourable enough not -to regularly try to cut me out, but there’s nothing in the way now. And -she will. I know she will. I hate her. I hate her. Oh, God! _What_ -shall I do?” - -She heard the front door open; a moment later her father ascend the -stair and enter his room. She ran across the hall, opened his door -without ceremony and caught him about the neck, but still without tears. - -He set his lips and held her close. Then he kissed and fondled her -as he had not done for years. “Poor little girl,” he said. “I am a -terrible failure. God knows I should have been glad to have bought your -happiness for you. As it is, I am afraid I have ruined it.” - -She noticed for the first time how worn and old he looked. Her -development had been rapid during the last hour. She passed on to a new -phase. “Poor papa,” she said, putting her hands about his face. “It -must be awful for you, and you have never told us. Listen. _He_ -said I would make a plucky wife, a good fellow. I’ll take care of you -and brace you up. I’ll be everything to you, papa; indeed I will. Papa, -you are not crying! Don’t! I have to go out to dinner to-night! Listen. -I don’t care much. Indeed I don’t. I’m sure I often wondered why he -attracted me so much when I thought him over. Alex says that if he were -an American she wouldn’t take the trouble to reform him--that he isn’t -worth it. And Hal says he looks like a dough pudding, half baked. It’s -dreadful that we can’t control our feelings better--Papa, give me every -spare moment you can, won’t you? I can’t stand the thought of the -girls.” - -“Yes,” he said, “every minute; and as soon as I can we’ll go off -somewhere together. It would be a great holiday for me. It is terrible -for me to see you suffer, but I am selfish enough to be glad that I -shall not lose you. Stay with me awhile. This will pass. You can’t -believe that now, but it will; and the next time you love, the man will -be more worthy of you. I don’t want to hurt you, my darling, but for -the life of me, I can’t think what you see in him.” - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - - -THAT evening, shortly after Miss Forbes had been dressed for -Mrs. Burr’s dinner, her mother entered and dismissed the maid. - -“What is it, mamma?” Augusta demanded in some surprise. “How odd you -look. Not as pretty as usual.” - -Mrs. Forbes’ lips had withdrawn from their pout; her whole face had -lost its sensuousness and seemed to have settled into rigid lines. She -went over to the fire and lifted one foot to the fender, then turned -and looked at her daughter. - -“Do you wish to marry the Duke of Bosworth?” she asked abruptly. - -A wave of red rose slowly to Augusta’s hair. Her lips parted. “What do -you mean?” she enquired after a moment. Her voice was a little thick. -“He is engaged to Mabel.” - -“He cannot marry Mabel. Mr. Creighton is on the verge of ruin.” - -Miss Forbes gasped. “Oh, how dreadful!” she exclaimed, but something -seemed to suffuse her brain with light. - -“You can marry him if you wish.” - -“But Mabel is my most intimate friend. It would be like outbidding her. -She has the two hundred thousand dollars that her grandmother left her, -and her father could surely give her as much more.” - -“What would four hundred thousand dollars be to a ruined Duke, up to -his ears in debt? He wants millions.” - -“But papa does not like him.” - -“Leave your father to me, and be guided entirely by me in this matter. -I have a plan mapped out if he will not give his consent at once. Do -you wish to marry this man?” - -Miss Forbes drew a hard breath. “I want to marry him more than anything -in the world,” she said. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - - -ABOUT the same time, as the Duke of Bosworth was dressing for -dinner in his rooms at The Waldorf, he received the following note:-- - - “DUKY, DUKY, DADDLEDUMS!--I have great news for you. Rush - your engagements, and come here between twelve and one to-night. - - F. C.” - -As the young Englishman entered Cuyler’s rooms a little after midnight, -he received such warmth of greeting from a powerful hand concealed -behind the _portière_ that his backbone doubled. - -“For God’s sake, Fletcher,” he said crossly, “remember that I am not a -Hercules. What do you want of me?” - -“Sit down. Sit down. I’ll put you in a good humour if I have to break a -bank. I’ve pledged it to my peace of mind. Well, first--Creighton has -practically gone to smash.” - -“I know it. He told me so this afternoon. Poor man, I felt sorry for -him; and I think he did for me, although his respect may have been -something less than his pity. I know I felt uncommonly cheap, and if he -had kicked me out I doubt if I should have resented it. He said that -what with his daughter’s fortune and some land investments, he might -scrape together a hundred thousand pounds. I told him it wouldn’t pay -my debts. Then I had an interview with her. Don’t ask me to repeat it. -Good God, what have we come to? Drop the subject.” - -“I haven’t begun yet. My conscience wouldn’t rest, however, unless I -paused to remark that I am deuced sorry for the Creightons. They are -the best sort, and I hate to see them go under. Well, to proceed. You -can have Miss Forbes.” - -The nobleman’s dull eyes opened. “What do you mean?” - -“I had an interview of a purely diplomatic nature with _la belle -mère_ after I left you. She is willing. Miss Forbes is willing. -Nay, willing is not the word. I named your price--the modest sum of -$5,000,000. She said you should have it.” - -“But Mr. Forbes despises me. By Heaven, I have more respect for that -man than for anybody I have met in America. Every time I meet those -steel eyes of his I seem to read: ‘You poor, miserable, little wretch -of a fortune-hunter! Go home and blow out your brains, but don’t -disgrace your name by bartering it for our screaming eagles.’ He’ll -never consent.” - -“My boy, you need a B. and S. Do brace up.” Fletcher wagged his head -pathetically. “You’ll have me crying in a minute. I’ve been on the -verge of tears for the last three weeks. Now let me tell you that you -are all right. There may be a tussle, but Forbes is bound to cave in -the end. He is infatuated with his wife and she knows her power. She -is as set on this match as you could be. She’s had the bee in her -bonnet for a good many years, to cut as great a dash in London as she -does in New York. Of course she’s in it in a way when she’s over there -for a month or two during the season, but she wants a long sight more -than that. Her ancestry does her no good because the English trunk -of the family died out two hundred years ago. As your mother-in-law -she’d be out of sight. A woman with her beauty and brain and style -and charm could bring any society in the world to her feet, and keep -it there once she had those feet planted beyond the door-mat. Now she -is patronised pleasantly as one of many pretty American women who flit -back and forth. You’ve got a powerful ally, and one that’s bound to -win. Now pull up that long face or I’ll hold you under the cold water -spout!” - -“I believe you have put new life into me,” said his Grace, the Duke of -Bosworth. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - - -AUGUSTA was moving restlessly about her boudoir. Her mind was -uneasy and a trifle harrowed. For the first time in her life she was -not thoroughly satisfied with herself. Once she sat down and opened -“Progress and Poverty”; but George had ceased to charm, and she resumed -her restless marching. Her boudoir was a scarlet confusion of silk and -crêpe, and conducive to cheerfulness. Although it extinguished her drab -colouring, Augusta usually felt her best in its glow and warmth; but -to-day she felt her worst. - -Suddenly she paused. There was a sound of rapid ascent of stair and -familiar voices. She opened her door, and a moment later Mrs. Burr -and Miss Maitland entered. Both looked unusually grave, and slightly -pugnacious. Augusta experienced a disagreeable sensation in her knees. - -“Has anything happened?” she asked, after she had greeted them and they -were seated. - -“Augusta!” said Miss Maitland sternly, “we are perhaps meddling in -what is none of our affair; nevertheless, we have made up our minds to -speak.” - -“Well?” - -“Are you trying to get the Duke of Bosworth away from Mabel Creighton?” - -“I am not.” - -“It looks like it.” - -“Does it?” - -“You are keeping something back, Augusta,” said Mrs. Burr. “Out with -it.” - -Miss Forbes recovered herself. “I am going to marry the Duke of -Bosworth,” she said distinctly. - -“Augusta Forbes!” - -“Yes; and I have not cut out Mabel Creighton. I am perfectly willing -to justify myself to you, as we have always kept to our compact to -stand the truth from each other. He came over here to marry Mabel, but -Mr. Creighton could not give him the portion--dot--you know. He is -dreadfully embarrassed, _but that is a dead secret_.” - -“And you have out-bid her?” - -“I have done nothing of the sort. The thing was quite settled before -the Duke spoke to me.” - -“He didn’t lose much time. He must have been pretty sure how he would -be received before he wound up with Mabel.” - -“I did not discuss that part of it with him.” - -“It’s too bad you didn’t discuss less. Poor Mabel is a wreck. The way -she is trying to keep up is positively pathetic.” - -“Well, my not marrying him would not help her.” - -“Augusta, you are wood all through.” - -The young matron threw herself back in her chair, and beat her knuckles -sharply with her lorgnette. Miss Maitland, who had not spoken for some -moments, now unburdened herself. - -“I have a good deal to say, Augusta, and I am going to say it. You know -we all agreed before we came out that we would regard certain matters -in a different light from that of most fashionable girls; we agreed, -among other things, that, while enjoying all that our wealth and -position offered us, we would read, and think, and endeavour to be of -some use in the world--not write polemical novels, or belong to clubs, -or anything of that sort, but take the very best advantages of the -accident of our birth. And we also agreed--do you remember?--that we -would cultivate higher ideals than most women care for--particularly -in our relations to each other and to men. It is three years since that -subject was discussed; but you remember it, I suppose.” - -“I do, and I have not broken it.” - -“Very well, I shall say no more about that particular phase of the -matter; that is for you to settle with your own conscience, and with -Mabel. This is what we are chiefly concerned with: there are several -ways by which our example can benefit society, and the chief of them is -to stop marrying impecunious foreign nobles!” - -She paused a moment. Augusta stiffened up, but made no reply. Miss -Maitland resumed: - -“As long as we continue to jump at titles whenever they come -gold-hunting and Jew-flying, just so long shall we--the upper class -of the United States, which should be its best--be contemptible in -the eyes of the world. Just so long shall we be sneered at in the -newspapers, lampooned in novels, excoriated by serious outsiders, and -occupy an entirely false place in contemporary history. We are so -conspicuous, that everything we do is tittle-tattled in the Press--we -are such a god-send to them that it is a thousand pities we don’t give -them something worth writing about. Now, my idea is this: that all -we New York girls band together and vow not to marry any foreigner -of title, English or otherwise, unless he can cap our prospective -inheritance by twice the amount--which is equivalent to vowing that we -will go untitled to our graves. Also, that such girls as we fail to -convert from this nonsensical snobbery, and who insist upon marrying -titles whenever they can get them, will see none of us at their -weddings. - -“Now this is the point: That would not only express to the whole world -our contempt for the alliance of the fortune-hunter and the snob, but -it would raise the self-esteem of our own men, and be one step toward -making them better than they are. You couldn’t convince one of them -that we are not all watching the foreign horizon with spy-glasses, -waiting to make a break for the first title that appears, and that they -have not got to be content with the leavings. But if they saw that we -really desired to marry Americans, and, above all, men that we could -love and respect, I believe they would make an effort to be worthy of -us. That would certainly be one great step gained. The next thing for -us to do is to be able to love hard enough to awaken the right kind of -love in men.” - -“Well?” asked Augusta. - -Miss Maitland’s cheeks were flushed. She looked almost beautiful. -Augusta felt that she looked pasty, but did not care. She was angry, -but determined to control herself. - -“You have a great opportunity. Dismiss the Duke of Bosworth, and avow -openly that you will only marry an American--that the American at his -best is your ideal. How it can be otherwise, as the daughter of your -father, passes my comprehension. Will you?” - -“Bravo, Alexis!” said Mrs. Burr. “We’ll have to find a man who’s -hunting for an ideal woman. And you didn’t mention Socialism once.” - -“That belongs to the future. I have come to the conclusion that we must -build the house before we can fresco the walls.” - -Augusta had risen, and was walking up and down the room. At the end of -three or four minutes she paused and faced her visitors, looking down -upon them with her habitual calm, slightly accentuated. - -“A month ago I should have agreed with you,” she said. “Your ideas, -Alex, are always splendid, and, usually, no one is more willing to -adopt them than I. But theories sometimes collide with facts. I am -going to marry the Duke of Bosworth.” - -They rose. - -“I hope you’ll scratch each other’s eyes out!” said Mrs. Burr. - -“You married for money,” retorted Augusta. - -“I did, and my reasons were good ones, as you know. Moreover, I married -a man, and an American. If I hadn’t liked him, and if he’d looked as -if he’d been boiled for soup, I wouldn’t have looked at him if he’d -owned Colorado. Latimer’s wings are not sprouting, and he doesn’t take -kindly to the idea of being reformed, but I don’t regret having married -him--not for a minute. You will. Maybe you won’t though.” - -Miss Maitland had fastened her coat. She gave her muff a little shake. - -“Good-bye, Augusta,” she said icily. “It is too bad that you inherited -nothing from your father but his iron will.” - -And without shaking hands they went out. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - - -BUT although Augusta had maintained an attitude of stiff -defiance, she was by no means pleased with herself. She rang for her -maid, dressed for the street, and a few moments later was on her way -to Murray Hill. When she reached the Creighton’s she went directly -up to Mabel’s room, and, after a hasty tap, entered. Mabel was lying -full-length on the divan among her rainbow pillows, a silver bottle of -smelling-salts at her nose. - -She rose at once. - -“I have a headache,” she said coldly. “Sit down.” - -“Mabel!” said Augusta precipitately, “should you think me dishonourable -if I married the Duke of Bosworth?” - -“If I did would it make any difference?” - -“No; but I’d rather you didn’t.” - -Mabel turned her head away and looked into the logs burning on the -hearth. - -“Until you yourself told me that it was over,” pursued Augusta, “I gave -him no sort of encouragement; but as you cannot marry him yourself, I -don’t see why I shouldn’t.” - -“No; I suppose there is no reason why you shouldn’t. Only it is -something I couldn’t do myself.” - -“You don’t know whether you could or not. Nobody knows what abstract -sentiments he’ll sacrifice when he wants a thing badly. If somebody -suddenly died and left you a fortune, wouldn’t you take him from me if -you could?” - -“Yes, I would.” - -“Well, that would be much more dishonourable than anything I have -done.” - -“I suppose so. I don’t care. I don’t call that kind of thing honour. I -wouldn’t have done it in the first place.” - -“I fail to see any distinction, Mabel. You never had any reasoning -faculty. I am much more suited to the Duke, anyhow, for he is really -clever.” - -“It isn’t cleverness he’s after.” - -“Oh, of course he must have money. One is used to that. It’s like -knowing that lots of people come to your house because you give good -dinners; but you don’t like them any the less; in fact, don’t think -about it. We have to take the world as we find it. If you regard the -Duke as a fortune-hunter I wonder you can still love him.” - -Mabel turned her head and regarded Miss Forbes with a haughty stare. -“I do not love him,” she said, “I despise him too thoroughly. It is my -pride only that is irritated. Don’t let there be any doubt on that -point.” - -“Well, I am delighted--relieved! It has worried me, made me genuinely -unhappy; it has indeed, Mabel dear. I will admit that I had misgivings, -that I was not altogether satisfied with myself; but now I can be as -happy as ever again. And you don’t think it dishonourable? Please say -that.” - -“No, I don’t think it dishonourable; (for we are no longer friends),” -she added to herself; but she was too generous to say it aloud. - -Augusta went away a few minutes later, and Mabel, who was not going out -that evening, flung herself on the divan, and sobbed into her cushions. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - - -SEVERAL evenings later, a banquet was given to a party of -Russian notables. As no young people were invited, Augusta, chaperoned -by her father’s sister, Mrs. Van Rhuys, arranged a theatre party, which -included the English Duke. - -As Mrs. Forbes stood between her mirrors that evening, she wondered if -she had ever looked more lovely. She wore a gown of ivory white satin, -so thick that it creaked, and entirely without trimming, save for the -lace on the bust. But about the waist, one end hanging almost to the -hem of the gown was a ribbon of large pigeon-blood rubies. A collar -of the same gems lay at the base of her long round throat. Above her -brow blazed a great star, the points set with diamonds, radiating from -a massive ruby. A smaller star clasped the lace at her breast. The -bracelets on her arms, the rings on her fingers, sparkled pink and -white. - -Her lips parted slightly. She thrilled with triumph, intoxicated -with her beauty and magnificence. For this woman could never become -_blasé_, never cease to be vital, until the shroud claimed her. - -Nevertheless, she felt unaccountably nervous. She had felt so all day. - -“I am quite well, am I not, mammy?” she said to an old negro woman who -sat regarding her with rapt admiration. The negress had been Virginia’s -nurse and personal attendant for thirty-nine years. Only the ocean--for -which she had an unsurmountable horror--had separated them. In Augusta -she had never taken the slightest interest, but over her idolized -mistress she exercised an austere vigilance. And as she was a good -old-fashioned doctor, and understood Mrs. Forbes’ constitution as had -it been a diagram of straight lines, she was always on the alert to -checkmate nature, and rarely unsuccessful. - -“You sut’n’y is, honey,” she replied. “You never was pearter. No wonder -you git ’cited sometimes with all dose purty things that cos’ such -heaps and heaps o’ money. Yo’ uster go wild over yore toys, and you -al’ays will be de same.” - -It was not yet eight and Mrs. Forbes seated herself lightly on the old -woman’s knee. At that moment Augusta entered the room. - -“Mother!” she exclaimed in a disgusted voice. “Do get up. I declare you -are nothing but a big overgrown baby. If it isn’t papa it’s mammy, and -if it isn’t mammy it’s papa.” - -“I suppose you can get through life without coddling,” replied her -mother, undisturbed; “but I can’t. You look remarkably well this -evening.” - -“Thanks.” Miss Forbes regarded herself complacently in the mirror. She -wore black and pink and there was colour in her face. “I’m no beauty, -but I think I do look rather well, and this frock is certainly a -stunning fit. You are a vision as usual. There is the carriage.” - -Mrs. Forbes rose and the maid enveloped her in a long mantle of white -velvet lined with ermine. The old negress adjusted the inner flap over -the chest and wrapped a lace scarf about the softly-dressed hair. - -“You is a leetle nervous, honey,” she said. “Has anything put yo’ out? -Don’t you tetch one bit o’ sweets to-night and not a drap o’ coffee.” - -“I’ll have it out when we come home, and get it over,” thought Mrs. -Forbes as she went down the stair and smiled to her husband, who -awaited her in the hall below. “That is what is making me so nervous.” - -Mr. Forbes, like many New York millionaires, had spread his house -over all the land he could buy in one spot on The Avenue, and there -was no _porte cochère_. When his wife was obliged to go out in -stormy weather an awning was erected between the front doors and the -curb-stone. To-night it was snowing heavily. As she appeared on the -stair two men-servants opened the doors and flung a carpet from the -threshold to the carriage-step. If Virginia Forbes had ever wet her -boots or slippers she could not recall the occasion. - -She was the sensation of the dinner and of the reception afterward. -The foreigners stood about her in a rivetted cluster, and with the -extravagance of their kind assured her that there was no woman in -Europe at once so beautiful and so clever. She took their flatteries -for what they were worth; they could have salaamed before her without -turning her head; but she revelled in the adulation, nevertheless. - -Mr. Forbes had two important letters to write when they returned home, -and she went with him to the library. As he took the chair before his -desk she got him a fresh pen, then poured him some whisky from the -decanter. She was as fresh as when she had left the house, and he -looked at her with passionate admiration. - -“I should like to be able to tell you how proud I was of you to-night,” -he said. “Sometimes I believe that you are really the most splendid -creature on earth.” - -“That is what those princelings were telling me,” she said, rumpling -his hair. “But you flatter me much more, for I may suspect that you -mean it.” - -“Well, sit where I can’t see you or I sha’n’t do much writing. Don’t -go, though.” - -She took an easy chair by the fire, but although she lay in its depths -and put her little feet on a low pouf, she drew the long rope of jewels -nervously through her fingers. Once or twice her breath came short, and -then she clasped the rubies so closely that the setting dented her skin. - -“I must, must brace up,” she thought. “Unless I am at my best I shall -be no match for him, and I must win in the first round or it will be a -long hard fight that I may not be equal to. Besides, I should hate it.” - -She was glad to have the interview in the library, her husband’s -favourite room. It was a long narrow room, lined to the ceiling with -the books of seven generations: Mr. Forbes came of a line of men that -had been noted for mental activity in one wise or another since England -had civilized America. There were busts and bas-reliefs of great men, -and many pieces of old carved furniture. The curtains, carpet, and easy -chairs were lit with red, and very luxurious. The mantel was of black -onyx. Above it was a portrait of Mrs. Forbes by Sargeant. The great -artist protested that he had interpreted “the very sky and sea-line of -her soul.” Certain it is that he had chosen to see only that which was -noble and alluring. Imperious pride was in the poise of the head, the -curve of the short upper lip; but it was the unself-conscious pride of -race and the _autorité_ of a lovely woman which all men delighted -to foster. The eyes, sensuous, tender, expectant, were the eyes of a -woman who had loved one man only, and that man with fond reiteration. -The lower lip was full, the mouth slightly parted. The brow was so -clear that it seemed to shed radiance. It uplifted the face, as if the -soul dwelt there, at home with the vigorous brain. - -Some thin white stuff was folded closely over the small low bust. A -string of large pearls was wound in and out of the heavy hair, whose -living warmth the artist had not failed to transfer. Indeed, warmth, -life, passion, soul, intelligence seemed to emanate from this wonderful -portrait, so combined by the limner as to convey an impression of -modern womanhood perfected, satisfied, triumphant, to which the world -could give no more, and from which the passing years would hesitate to -steal aught. Sometimes Virginia Forbes stood and regarded it sadly. “It -is an ideal me,” she would think, “all that I should like to be--that -I might--were it not for this trowelful of clay in my soul.” Although -Mr. Forbes was too keen a student of human nature to be ignorant of his -wife’s faults, his faith was so strong in the large full side of her -nature that he had long since felt justified in closing his eyes to -all that fell below the ideal. - -He wrote for an hour, then threw the pen down, rose, and ran his -fingers through his hair. - -“Thank heaven that is over. I can sleep in peace. How good of you to -wait for me. Are you very tired?” - -“No,” she said, and unconsciously her lips lost their fulness, and she -clutched the stones so tightly that they bruised her flesh. “Will you -sit down, Ned, dear? I want to talk to you.” - -“Is anything the matter?” he asked anxiously. “You’ve lost your colour -since you came in. I am afraid you go too hard. New York is a killing -place. Shall we go to Asheville for a week or two?” - -“I never felt better. Sit down--there--where I can see you; and light a -cigar. I am going to speak of something very important. You won’t like -what I say--at first; but I am sure you will when I have finished.” - -He sat down, much puzzled. “I don’t want to smoke, and I’m afraid -something has gone wrong with you. Have you been investing and lost? -You know that I never ask what you do with your money, and if you are -short all you have to do is to ask for more.” - -“You know that I never would invest money without your advice; and I -have scarcely touched this year’s income. It is about Augusta.” - -Mr. Forbes raised his brows. “Augusta? She doesn’t want to take to the -public platform, I hope.” - -“She is in love.” - -“What? Our calm, superior--with whom, for heaven’s sake?” - -“With the Duke of Bosworth.” - -Mr. Forbes sat forward in his chair, pressing his hands upon its arms. -The blood rose slowly and covered his face. “The Duke of Bosworth!” he -ejaculated. “Do you mean to tell me that our daughter, and a girl who -is American to her finger-tips, has had her head turned by a title?” - -“It is not the title, Ned; it is the man----” - -“Impossible! The man? Why, he’s not a man. He’s--but I don’t choose to -express to you or to any woman what I think of him. I never set up to -be a saint; I went the pace with other men before I married you; but -in my opinion the best thing that remnants like Bosworth can do is to -get into the family vault as quickly as possible and leave no second -edition behind them. He’ll leave none of my blood.” - -“You misjudge him, dear; I am sure you do. I have talked much with him. -He is very intelligent, and, I think, would be glad to live his life -over. It is his delicate physique that gives him the appearance of a -wreck.” - -“Excuse me. I have seen men of delicate physique all my life. I am also -a man of the world. Sooner than have that puny demoralised creature -the father of my grandchildren, I should gladly see Augusta spend her -life alone--happy as we have been. I cannot understand it. She must be -hypnotised. And you, Virginia! I am ashamed of you. I cannot believe -that you have encouraged her. You, the cleverest and most sensible -woman I have ever known! Do you wish to see your daughter the wife of -that man?” - -“I should not if she were like some girls. But she has little sentiment -and ideality. She is a strong masculine character, just the type to -give new life and stamina to the decaying houses of the old world. -She is not as clever as she thinks, but at thirty she will know her -limitations and be a very level-headed well-balanced woman. She will -shed no tears over the Duke’s defections, and you know what Darwin says -about the children of strong mothers and dissipated eldest sons. I am -sure that Augusta’s children will not disgrace you.” - -“What you say sounds well: I never yet knew you to fail to make out a -good case when driven to a corner; but this miserable man’s children -will not be my grandchildren.” - -“Ned, you are so prejudiced. You are such a rampant American.” - -“I am, I hope. And you know perfectly well that I am not prejudiced. -I know many members of the British peerage for whom I have hearty -liking and respect. Some of the best brains the world has ever known -have belonged to the English aristocracy. But this whelp--if he were -the son of as good an American as I am do you think it would make -any difference? And if he were worthy of his blood he could have my -daughter and welcome.” - -Mrs. Forbes had controlled herself inflexibly, but she was conscious -of increasing excitement. Her eyes looked as hard and brilliant as the -jewels upon her. Her hands trembled as she played with her rope of -rubies. She recognised that he was conclusive; that it would be worse -than folly to resort to endearment and cajolery, even could she bring -herself to the mood. But before such uncompromising opposition her -ambition cemented and controlled her, was near to torching reason and -judgment. She would not trust herself to speak for a moment, but looked -fixedly at her husband. - -“I thought this little fortune-hunter was engaged to Mabel Creighton,” -he said abruptly. - -“That was all a mistake----” - -“He found out that Creighton was in a hole, I suppose. Virginia!--it -is not possible?--you did not tell him?--you have not been scheming to -bring about this damnable transaction?” - -“Of course I did not tell him. I wish you wouldn’t screw up your eyes -like that at me. I saw before he had been here a week that he had -fallen in love with Augusta----” - -“Love be damned! Do you imagine a man like that loves?” - -“Well, liked then. Of course he cannot afford to marry without -money----” - -“And I am expected to buy him, I suppose?” - -“Don’t be so coarse! Now listen to me, Ned. _I_ want this -match. Of course I should not move in the matter if I did not respect -the Duke, and if Augusta didn’t love him as much as she is capable -of loving. But I want this English alliance--and there may never be -another opportunity. I will state the fact plainly--it would give me -the greatest possible satisfaction to know that my position was as -assured in England as it is in America----” - -“Good God! What is the matter with you American women? If you sat down -and worked it out, could you tell why you are all so mad about the -English nobility? Or wouldn’t you blush if you could? As I said the -other day it is a germ disease--a species of brain-poisoning. It eats -and rots. It demoralises like morphine and alcohol. After a woman has -once let herself go, she is good for nothing else for the rest of her -life. She eats, drinks, sleeps, thinks English aristocracy. Even you, -if I gave you your head, would find it in you to become a veritable -coronet-chaser--you!--my God! Well, it won’t be in my time; and if -Augusta runs off with this debased dishonoured little wretch she’ll -not get one cent of mine. And there will be no breaking of wills; I’ll -dispose of my fortune before I die. I shall take good care to let him -know this at once, for I make no doubt he’s desperate----” - -Mrs. Forbes sprang to her feet. “You never spoke so to me before,” she -cried furiously. “I do not believe you love me. So long as I spend -my life studying your wishes--and I have studied them for twenty-two -years--you are amiable and charming enough; but now that your wife and -daughter want something that you don’t wish to give them, that doesn’t -happen to suit your fancy, you turn upon me in your true character of -a tyrant----” - -“Virginia! hush!” said Mr. Forbes sternly. “I have done nothing of the -sort. You are talking like a petulant child. Come here and tell me that -you will think no more of this wretched business----” - -He went forward, but she moved rapidly aside. - -“Don’t touch me,” she said. “I am not in the mood to be touched. And I -shall never be happy again if you refuse your consent to this marriage.” - -“Never be what? Has our happiness rested on so uncertain a foundation -as that? I thought that you loved me.” - -“Oh, I do. Of course I do. But can’t you understand that love isn’t -everything to a woman?--any more than it is to a man? I would be -married to no other man on earth, not to a prince of the blood. But it -is not everything to me any more than it is everything to you. Suppose -you were suddenly stripped of your tremendous political influence, -of your financial power, and reduced to the mere domestic and social -round? Would I suffice? Not unless you were eighty and in need of a -nurse.” - -She had drawn herself up to her full commanding height. Her head was -thrown back, her nostrils were distended, her lips were a scarlet -undulating line. There was no other colour in her face. It looked as -opaque, as hard as ivory. The eyes were merciless; even their brown -had lost its warmth. The jewels with which she was hung, which glowed -with deep rubescent fire on her robe and neck and brow, gave her the -appearance of an idol--an idol which had suddenly been informed with -the spirit of pitiless ambition and spurned its creator. - -Mr. Forbes had turned very grey. His nostrils and lips contracted. His -teeth set. Involuntarily he glanced from the woman to the portrait. The -portrait was more alive than the woman. - -“Don’t you understand?” she demanded. - -“No,” he said, “I don’t think I do. At least I hope I do not. At all -events, I hope we may not discuss this subject again. I did not tell -you that I intend to pull Creighton through. I cannot see an old friend -go under. It will be to the Duke’s interest to push his suit in that -quarter--if they want him. Now, please go to your room. You are very -much excited. If you were not I hardly think you would have spoken as -you have.” - -He went to the end of the room and opened the door. She passed him -quickly with averted head. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - - -ONCE more father and daughter faced each other across the -breakfast table. This time, Augusta, with a very red face, stared -defiantly into bitter and contemptuous eyes. - -“And your socialism? Do you expect to convert your Duke?” - -“No, papa; of course not.” - -“It is exactly five weeks since you informed me that you wished me to -devote my fortune to the dear people.” - -“I know it, papa. One looks at things very differently when one looks -at them through a man’s eyes, as it were--I mean through the eyes of -the man one has fallen in love with; of course I always have had the -highest respect for your opinion. Now, it seems to me a grand thing to -restore the fortunes of an ancient and illustrious house----” - -“That is the reason the good God permitted me to be born, I suppose--to -sacrifice some ten or fifteen years of man’s allotted span in -accumulating millions with which to prop up a rotten aristocracy.” - -“Papa! I never knew you to be so bitter. You are quite unlike yourself -this morning. Of course, we don’t all look at things in the same way in -this world. But I don’t wish you to think that I have entirely forsaken -my old principles. I should do much good with my money in England. The -poverty is said to be frightful there; and I hear that the working-men -on the great estates only get a pound a week, and sometimes less. I -should pay those on our estates more, my self.” - -“It doesn’t occur to you, I suppose, that American-made millions -should be spent in America, and that we have poverty enough of our own.” - -“Our poor are mostly Europeans,” she retorted quickly. - -He gave a brief laugh. “You have me there. Well; go on. You intend to -reform this poor little trembling sore-eyed weak-kneed, debauchee----” - -“Father! I will not permit you to speak in that way of the Duke of -Bosworth.” - -She had sprung from her chair. Like all phlegmatic natures, when the -depths were stirred she was violent and ugly. She looked as if about to -leap upon her parent and beat him. - -He rose also and looked down on her. “You will not do what?” he said -with a cutting contempt. “Go upstairs to your room, and stay there -until I give you permission to leave it. And understand here, once for -all, that not one dollar of mine will ever go into that man’s pocket. -If he marries you, he will have to support you, or you him: I shall not -take the trouble to enquire which.” - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - - -MR. FORBES was obliged to go that morning to Boston, to remain -until the following evening. He did not see his wife before he -left--had not seen her since the interview in the library. She had -locked herself in her room, and he was not the man to hammer on a -sulking woman’s door. - -Several men he knew were in his car, and he talked with them until -the train reached Boston. There he was engrossed; he had barely time -to snatch a few hours for sleep, none for thought. But the next day, -after taking his chair in the train for New York, and observing that -he knew no one in the car, he became aware that the heart within him -was heavy. He and his wife had quarrelled before, for she had a hot -Southern temper, and he was by no means without gunpowder of his own; -but none of their disputes had left behind it the flavour of this. That -she should tolerate such a man as Bosworth, had disappointed him; that -she should espouse his pretensions to their only child, filled him with -disgust and something like terror; and her snobbery sickened him. But -what had stabbed into the quick of his heart were her final words. He -repeated them again and again, hoping to dull their edge. - -Moreover, she had never let the night set its ugly seal on their -quarrels. Her tempers were soon over, and she had invariably come to -him and commanded or coaxed for reconciliation, as her mood dictated. -He had steered safely through the first trying years of matrimony, and -it appalled him to think that perhaps an unreckoned future lay before -them both. - -When he entered his house something struck him as out of the common. A -servant had fetched his portmanteau from the cab. It suddenly occurred -to Mr. Forbes that the man had ostentatiously evaded his eye. - -He walked toward the stair, hesitated, then turned. - -“Is Mrs. Forbes well?” he asked; and he found that he was making an -effort to control his voice. - -The man flushed and hung his head. “Mrs. Forbes and Miss Augusta -sailed for Europe this afternoon, sir. There’s a letter for you on the -mantel-piece in the library.” - -Mr. Forbes did not trust himself to say, “Ah!” As he turned the knob -of the library door his hand trembled. He entered, and locked the door -behind him. - -He opened the letter at once and read it. - - “I think you did not understand on Monday night that I was in - earnest,” it ran. “I am so much in earnest that I shall not stay here - to bicker with you. That we have never done. I do not wish to run the - risk of speaking again as I spoke the last time we were together. I - know that I hurt you, and I am very sorry. If I did not believe that - you were entirely wrong in the stand you have taken, I should not - think of taking any decisive step in the matter myself; for it hurts - me to hurt you--please believe that. But I feel sure that as soon - as you are alone and think it over calmly, you will see that your - opposition is hardly warrantable, and that the wishes of your wife and - daughter are worthy of serious consideration. If we remained to renew - the subject constantly you would not give it this consideration; there - would be an undignified and regrettable war of words every day. - - “This is what I have made up my mind to do: if you persist in refusing - your consent--which I cannot believe--I shall, on the tenth day of - March, turn over all my own property to the Duke: my houses in Newport - and Asheville, my horses and yacht, and my jewels. Two days later they - will marry. I stand pledged to these two people that they shall marry, - and nothing will induce me to break my word. - - “I sail to-day with Augusta on the _Brétagne_; I go to Paris - first to order the trousseau. My address will be the ‘Bristol’; but - I shall only be in Paris a week. From there I shall go to London--to - the ‘Bristol.’ The Duke and Fletcher Cuyler sail to-day on the - _Majestic_. - - “I am afraid I have expressed myself brutally. My head aches. I am - very nervous. I can hardly get my thoughts together, with all this - hurry and confusion, and the unhappy knowledge that I am displeasing - you. But this cloud that has fallen between us can be brushed aside; - we can be happy again, and at once. It only rests with you. - - “VIRGINIA. - - “I have told Harriet to make a plausible explanation of our abrupt - departure. She has a talent for that sort of thing. No one need know - that there has been the slightest difference of opinion.” - -Mr. Forbes dropped the letter to the floor, and leaned forward, his -elbows digging into his knees, his hands pressed to his head. - -He stared at the carpet His face was as white as if someone had struck -him a blow in a vital part. The tears gathered slowly in his eyes and -rolled over his cheeks. Suddenly his hands covered his face; and sobs -shook him from head to foot. - -“What have I loved?” he thought. “What have I loved? Have I been in a -fool’s paradise for twenty-two years? Oh, my God!” - -This woman had been the pre-eminent consideration of the best years -of his life. He had loved her supremely. He had been faithful to her. -He had poured millions at her feet, delighted to gratify her love of -splendour and power. And never had a man seemed more justified. She had -half lived in his arms. She had been his comrade and friend, a source -of sympathy and repose and diversion and happiness that had never -failed him; for nearly a quarter of a century. And now she had sold -him, trodden in the dirt his will, his pride, his heart, that she might -finger a coronet which could never be hers, but gloat over the tarnish -on her fingers. - -He sat there for many hours. Dinner was announced, but he paid no -heed. He reviewed his married life. It had seemed to him very nearly -perfect. It lost nothing in the retrospect. He doubted if many men were -as happy as he had been, if many women had as much to give to a man as -Virginia Forbes. And now it had come to a full stop; to be resumed, -pitted and truncated, in another chapter. The delight of being petted -and spoiled and adored by a man whom all men respected, the love and -communion upon which she had seemed passionately dependent, were chaff -in the scale against her personal and social vanities. - -Life had been very kind to him. Money, position, influential friends -had been his birthright. His talents had been recognised in his early -manhood. He had turned his original thousands into millions. No man in -the United States stood higher in the public estimation, nor could have -had a wider popularity, had he chosen to send his magnetism to the -people. No American was more hospitably received abroad. Probably no -man living was the object of more kindly envy. And yet he sat alone in -his magnificent house and asked himself, “For what were mortals born?” -His heart ached so that he could have torn it out and trampled on it. -And the gall that bit the raw wound was the knowledge that he must go -on loving this woman so long as life was in him. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - - -MRS. FORBES and her daughter had been in London two weeks. -The engagement had been announced by the Duke a week previously, and -was the sensation of the hour. The American newspapers were agog, -but, as Mr. Forbes refused to be interviewed, were obliged to content -themselves with daily bulletins from London. Mr. Forbes’ opposition -was suspected, but could not be verified. When congratulated, he -replied diplomatically that he was not a warm advocate of international -marriages. He hedged with a sense of bitter abasement, but he could not -fling his dignity into the public maw. - -Mrs. Van Rhuys informed people that, personally, her brother liked -the Duke of Bosworth, but had hoped that Augusta would marry an -American. She could not name the exact amount of the dowry; several -millions, probably. The Duke seemed singularly indifferent. He wished -the marriage to take place at once and in England, that his mother, -who idolized him, might be present. Wherefore the sudden move, as the -trousseau was of far more importance than the breaking of a dozen -social engagements. Mr. Forbes would go over for the wedding, of -course--unless this dreadful financial muddle prevented. She and her -brother-in-law, Schuyler Van Rhuys, who was nursing the wound inflicted -by that unintelligible Californian, Helena Belmont, should go, in any -case. No; the Duke had not jilted Mabel Creighton. On the contrary, -Mabel might be said to have made the match. She and the Duke had known -each other for a long while, and were the best of friends, nothing more. - -All the folk in London of the Duke’s set had called on Mrs. Forbes and -the impending Duchess. As Parliament was sitting, there was a goodly -number of them. The United States Ambassador gave a banquet in honour -of the engagement, and it was the first of many attentions. - -But the Duke was a man in whom few beyond his intimate circle took -personal interest: he was cold, repellent, unpicturesque. The heiress -had neither beauty nor the thistle-down attraction of the average -American girl. It was Virginia Forbes who introduced a singular -variation into this important but hackneyed transaction, and atoned for -the paucities of the principal figures: she absorbed something more -than two-thirds of the public attention. Her beauty, her distinction, -her lively wit, her exquisite taste in dress, her jewels, above all -her girlish appearance, commanded the reluctant admiration or the -subtle envy of the women, the enthusiasm of the men, and the unflagging -attentions of the weekly press. Her ancestry was suddenly discovered, -and was a mine of glittering and illimited strata. Her photograph was -printed in every paper which aimed to amuse a great and weary people, -and was on sale in the shops. In short, she was the “news” of the hour; -and the twentieth of his line and the lady who would save the entail -were the mere mechanism selected by Circumstance to steer a charming -woman to her regalities. - -“You certainly ought to be in a state of unleavened bliss,” remarked -her daughter with some sarcasm one evening as they sat together after -tea, alone for the hour. “You simply laid your plans, sailed over, and -down went London. I never knew anything quite so neat in my life. But -it is in some people’s lines to get everything they want, and I suppose -you will to the end of the chapter.” - -Mrs. Forbes was gazing into the fire through the sticks of a fan. Her -face was without its usual colour and her lips were contracted. - -“Not a line from your father, and it is three weeks,” she said abruptly. - -“You did not expect _him_--father!--to come round in a whirl, I -suppose. But why do you worry so? You know that it can end in one way -only. We are all he has, and he adores us, and cannot live without us. -It isn’t as if he were fast, like so many New York men. I have not -worried--not for a moment.” - -“How can you be so cold-blooded? I wish you knew the wretch I feel. If -he does adore us, cannot you comprehend what we are making him suffer? -Sometimes I think I can never make it up to him, not with all the -devotion I am capable of, after this miserable business is over.” - -“Mother! You are not weakening? You will not retreat now that you have -gone so far?” - -“I have no intention of retreating. But I wish that I had stayed in New -York and fought it out there. It was a shocking and heartless thing to -run away and leave him like that, a brutal and insulting thing; but -when he told me that he should pull Mr. Creighton through, and speak to -the Duke, this move seemed the only one that could save the game.” - -“And a very wise one it was. Father would have beaten you in the -end--surely; he can do anything with you. I think it is humiliating to -be part and parcel of a man like that.” - -“You know nothing of love. You are fascinated by a man who has the -magnetism of indifference; that is all.” - -“I am quite sure that I love Bertie,” said Miss Forbes with decision. -“I have analyzed myself thoroughly, and I feel convinced that it is -love--although I thank my stars that I could never in any circumstances -be so besottedly in love with a man as you are with dear papa. I do -not pretend to deny that I am pleased, very pleased, at the idea of -being a Duchess. All we American girls of the best families have good -blue English blood in our veins, and it seems to me that in accepting -the best that the mother country can offer us, we should feel no -more flattered or excited than any English-born girl in the same -circumstances. For the _nouveau riche_--the fungi--of course it is -ridiculous, and also lamentable: they muddy a pure stream, and they are -chromos in a jewelled frame. But there are many of us that should feel -a certain gratitude to Providence that we are permitted to save from -ruin the grand old families whose ancestors and ours played together, -perhaps, as children. To me it is a sacred duty as well as a very great -pleasure. Papa’s English ancestors may not have been as smart as yours, -but he has seven generations of education and refinement, position and -wealth behind him in the United States; he is the chief figure in the -aristocracy of the United States; and in time he must see things as we -do.” - -To this edifying homily Mrs. Forbes gave scant attention. She was -tormented with conjectures of her husband’s scorn and displeasure, -picturing his loneliness. Sometimes she awoke suddenly in the night, -lost the drift for the moment of conversation in company, saw a blank -wall instead of the _mise en scène_ of the play, her brain -flaring with the enigma: “Will life ever be quite the same again?” She -had had a second object in leaving New York abruptly: she believed -that her husband could not stand the test of her absence and anger. -But in the excitement and rush of those two days she had not looked -into her deeper knowledge of him. She had known him very well. It was a -dangerous experiment to wound a great nature, to shatter the delicate -partition between illusion and an analytical mind. - -“What a dreadful sigh!” expostulated Miss Forbes. “It is bad for the -heart to sigh like that. I don’t think you are very well. I don’t -think, lovely as you look, that you have been quite up to mark since we -left New York.” - -“I suppose it is because I was ill crossing; I never was before, you -know. And then it is the first time in my life that I have been away -from both your father and mammy. I am so used to being taken care of -that I feel as if I were doing the wrong thing all the time, and Marie -is merely a toilette automaton. This morning the clothes were half off -the bed when I woke up, and the window was open; and yesterday Marie -gave me the wrong wrap, and I was cold all the afternoon.” - -“Good heavens, mother!” cried Miss Forbes. “Fancy being thirty-nine and -such a baby. I feel years older than you.” - -“And immeasurably superior. I suppose the petting and care I have had -all my life would bore you. Well, your cold independent nature often -makes me wonder what are its demands upon happiness. Does Bertie ever -kiss you?” - -“Occasionally; but I don’t care much about kissing. We discuss the -questions of the day.” - -“Poor man!” - -“I am sure that he likes it, and we shall get along admirably. I am the -stronger nature, and I feel reasonably certain that I shall acquire -great influence over him, and make an exemplary man of him.” - -“Great heavens!” thought Mrs. Forbes. “A plain passionless -pseudo-intellectual girl reforming an English profligate! What a sight -for the gods!” - -“I hope papa will come round before the wedding, because I wish only -the interest of my dowry settled on us, and it takes a man to hold out -on that point. That would give me the upper hand in a way. You have not -written to him since we left, have you?” - -“No.” - -“Don’t you think it is time?” - -“I intend to write by to-morrow’s steamer.” - -“Do make him really understand that he is forcing you to sacrifice the -houses and jewels to which you are so much attached.” - -“I shall make it as strong as I can.” - -“I’ll write to Aunt Harriet, and tell her to talk to him. Poor dear -papa, I am afraid he is lonesome. I wish he would come over so that we -could all be together again. Give him my love and a kiss.” - -“You certainly have a magnificent sense of humour.” - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - - -MR. FORBES read his wife’s second letter with dry eyes. His -face, during the past weeks, had been habitually hard and severe. He -looked older. It was a long letter. It was fragrant with love and -admitted remorse; but it reasserted that unless he made the required -settlement three weeks from receipt she would hand over to the Duke’s -attorneys all she possessed. - -Mr. Forbes tore the letter into strips and threw them on the fire. -His face had flushed as he read; and as he lay back in his chair, it -relaxed somewhat. - -“If she were here would I yield?” he thought. “I am thankful that she -is not. Or am I? I don’t know. What fools we mortals be--in the hands -of a woman. Five millions seem a small price to have her back. But -to pay them, unfortunately, means the free gift of my self-respect. -What is to come? What is to come? I had believed at times that this -woman read my very soul and touched it. Her intuitions, her sympathy, -her subtle comprehension of the highest wants of a man’s nature and -reverence for them amounted to something like genius. Indeed, she had a -genius for loving--a most uncommon gift. Or so it seemed to me. But I -think that few men would appreciate that they were idealising a woman -like Virginia Forbes. And now? I am to take back the beautiful woman, -the companionable mind, I suppose--nothing more. But it is something -to have been a fool for twenty-two years. I cannot say that I have any -regrets. And possibly it was my own fault that I could not make her -love me better.” - -He looked up at the picture. “Several times,” he thought, “I have felt -like mounting a chair and kissing it. And if I did, I should feel as if -I were kissing the lips of a corpse.” - -“Ned! Are you there?” - -Mr. Forbes rose instantly. The door had opened, and a tall woman, not -unlike Augusta, but with something more of mellowness, had entered. - -“I am glad to see you, Harriet,” he said. “What brings you at this -hour? Have you come to help me through my solitary dinner?” - -“I will stay to dinner, certainly.” Mrs. Van Rhuys took the chair he -offered, and looked at him keenly. “I have just received a letter -from Augusta,” she said. “Do withdraw your opposition, Ned. Yield -gracefully, before the world knows what it is beginning to suspect. And -a man can never hold out against his womankind. He might just as well -give in at once and save wrinkles.” - -“What is your personal opinion of the Duke of Bosworth?” asked Mr. -Forbes curtly. - -“Well, I certainly should have chosen a finer sample of the English -aristocracy for Augusta, but I cannot sympathise with your violent -antipathy to him. His manners are remarkably good for an Englishman, -and it would be one of the most notable marriages in American history.” - -“You women are all alike,” said Mr. Forbes contemptuously. “Would you -give your daughter to this man?” - -“Assuredly. I am positive that when the little Duke settles down he -will be all that could be desired. He has something to live for now. -Poor thing! He has been hampered with debts ever since he came of age. -The old Duke was a sad profligate, but a very charming man. What it -is I do not pretend to define, and I say it without any snobbishness, -for I am devoted to New York; but there is something about the English -aristocracy----” - -“Oh!”--Mr. Forbes rattled the shovel among the coals--“Do, please, -spare me. You’re all peer-bewitched, every one of you. Don’t let us -discuss the subject any farther. It is loathsome to me, and I am -ashamed of my womankind.” - -“Are you determined to let Virginia sell her houses and jewels, Ned? It -will break her heart.” - -“She knew what she was doing when she struck the bargain. It was an -entirely voluntary act on her part. I see no reason why she should not -stand the consequences. Shall we go in to dinner?” - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - - -THE next evening Miss Forbes dressed for a dinner party in a -very bad humour. - -Her mother was prostrated with a violent headache and had been obliged -to send an excuse. - -“Such a dreadful thing to do,” grumbled Augusta to her maid as she -revolved before the pier glass. “Have you asked Marie the particulars? -Is my mother really ill?” - -“Dreadful, I believe, miss.” - -“It makes me feel heartless to leave her, but one of us must go, that -is certain. Can I see her?” - -“No, miss. She is trying to sleep.” - -“People may have an idea that the path of an American heiress who is -going to marry an English Duke is strewn with Jacqueminots; I wish they -knew what I have gone through in the last month. I wish to heaven papa -would come over.” - -It was a bright and lively dinner given by a very young and -newly-titled United Statesian, who treated the British peerage as a -large and lovely joke, and was accepted on much the same footing. The -Duke, who had pulled himself together since the swerve in his fortunes, -looked something more of a man. His cheeks had more colour and his -eye-belongings less. He held himself erectly and talked well. Augusta -bored him hideously, but he reflected that a Duke need see little of -his Duchess, and filled his present _rôle_ creditably. Fletcher -Cuyler as usual was the life of the company, and even Augusta forgot to -be intellectual. - -A theatre party followed the dinner. Augusta returned to the hotel -a little after midnight. As she opened the door of the private -drawing-room of Mrs. Forbes’ suite, she saw with surprise that her -mother was sitting by one of the tables. - -“I thought you were in bed with a headache,” she began, and then -uttered an exclamation of alarm and went hastily forward. - -Mrs. Forbes, as white as the dead, her hair unbound and dishevelled, -her eyes swollen, sat with clenched hands pressed hard against her -cheeks. - -“Mother!” exclaimed Augusta. “You--you look terribly. How you must have -suffered. Has the pain gone?” - -“Yes, the pain has gone.” - -“Well, I am glad you are better----” - -“It will be a long while before I am better. Oh, I want your father! -Cable to him! Go for him! Do anything, only bring him here.” - -“I’ll cable this minute if you are really ill. But what is the matter?” - -Mrs. Forbes muttered something. Augusta bent her ear. “What?” she -asked. Her mother repeated what she had said. As Augusta lifted her -head her face was scarlet. - -“Gracious goodness!” she ejaculated. “Who would ever have thought of -such a thing?” She walked aimlessly to the window, then returned to her -mother. “Well,” she added, “it’s nothing to be so upset about. It isn’t -as if it were your first. And papa will be delighted.” - -Mrs. Forbes flung her arms over the table, her head upon them, and -burst into wild sobbing. - -“Good heavens, mother, don’t take on so,” cried her daughter. “What -good could papa do if he were here? I hope I’ll never have a baby if -it affects one like that.” - -She hovered over her mother, much embarrassed. She was not heartless -and would have been glad to relieve her distress; but inasmuch as she -was incapable of such distress herself she comprehended not the least -of what possessed her mother. She took refuge upon the plane where she -was ever at home. - -“I have always said,” she announced, “that it is not a good thing for -American men to spoil their wives as they do, and particularly as papa -spoils you. Here you are in the most ordinary predicament that can -befall a woman, and yet you are utterly demoralized because he is not -here to pet you and make you think you are the only woman that ever had -a baby. And upon my word,” she added reflectively, “I believe he would -be perfectly happy if he were here. I can just see the fuss he would -make over you----” - -Here her mother’s sobs became so violent that she was roused to genuine -concern. - -“I’ll cable at once,” she said. “But what shall I cable? I don’t know -how to intimate such a thing, and I certainly can’t say it right out.” - -“I will write. Give me the things.” Mrs. Forbes raised her disfigured -face and pushed back her hair. “It will make me feel better. Of course -you cannot cable without alarming him, and he has had enough.” - -Augusta brought the writing materials with alacrity. Mrs. Forbes wrote -two lines. The tears splashed on the paper. - -“Those will look like real tears,” said Augusta reassuringly. “Once -I helped Mabel write a letter breaking off an engagement, and she -sprinkled it with the hair-brush. I am sure he must have guessed. Here, -I’ll send it right away, and then you’ll feel better.” - -She summoned a bell-boy and dispatched the letter. “There!” she said, -patting her mother’s head. “He’ll be sure to come over now, and all -will go as merry as a marriage-bell--my marriage-bell. Tell me, mamma, -don’t you feel that this is a special little intervention of Providence -to bring things about just as we want them? Aren’t you glad that this -is the end of doubt and worry, and that you can keep your houses and -lovely jewels?” - -“I don’t know,” said Mrs. Forbes wearily. “I want nothing but my -husband.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - - -THE week passed. No cable came from Mr. Forbes. His wife did -not admit further disquiet. She knew his pride. He would come, but not -with the appearance of hastening to her at the first excuse. - -She went out as much as she could--filled every moment. A part of the -trousseau arrived, and there were many things to be bought in London. - -She needed all the distraction she could devise. Impatience and -longing, regret and loneliness crouched at the four corners of her -mind, ready to spring the moment her will relaxed. The gloomy skies -contributed their quota. She was home-sick for the blue and white, the -electric atmosphere of New York. Nevertheless, when she was surrounded -by admirers, during the hours wherein she was reminded that her haughty -little head was among the stars, she was content, and had no thought of -retreat. - -The letter had left England on a Saturday. She reckoned that her -husband would not receive it until the following Monday week. Making -allowance for all delays, he could take the steamer that left New York -on Wednesday. - -On the Wednesday of the week succeeding she remained in her rooms -all day. The time came and passed for the arrival of passengers by -the “Cunard” line; but her husband had a strong preference for the -“American,” and she had made up her mind not to expect him before a -quarter to nine in the evening--a slight break in the _St. Paul’s_ -machinery had delayed its arrival several hours. - -She was nervous and excited. Augusta left the hotel and declared that -she should not return until the “meeting was quite over.” For the last -week Mrs. Forbes had been haunted by visions of shipwreck, fire at -sea, and sudden death. In these last hours she walked the floor torn -by doubts of another nature. Suppose her husband would not forgive -her, was disgusted, embittered? She had every reason to think that she -had deep and intimate knowledge of him; but she knew that people had -lived together for forty years before some crook of Circumstance had -revealed the dormant but virile poison of their natures. Was bitter -pride her husband’s? For the first time she wished that she had never -seen the Duke of Bosworth--retreated before the ambitions of a lifetime -in detestation and terror. Every part of her concentrated into longing -for the man who had made the happiness of her life. She even wished -passionately that she had never had a daughter to come between them, -and with curious feminism loved the baby that was coming the more. - -She went to the mirror and regarded herself anxiously. When in society, -excitement gave her all her old rich vital beauty, but the reaction -left her pale and dull. Would he find her faded? He had worshipped her -beauty, and she would rather have walked out from wealth into poverty -than have discovered a wrinkle or a grey hair. But she looked very -lovely. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkling. Her warm soft hair -when hanging always enriched her beauty. She wore an Empire gown of -pale pink satin cut in a high square about the throat. - -“Oh, I look pretty enough,” she thought. “If he would only come!” - -For the twentieth time she went to the clock. It was a few minutes to -eight The train was due at twenty minutes past. He should be at the -hotel by a quarter to nine at latest. - -The next hour was the longest of her life. She assured herself that if -there was such a result as retributive justice in this world it beat -upon her in a fiery rain during those crab-like moments. There was -nothing to momentarily relieve the tension, no seconds of expectation, -of hope. The roll of cabs in the street was incessant. The corridors of -the hotel were so thickly carpeted that she could not hear a foot-fall. -Her very hands shook, but she dared not take an anodyne lest she should -not be herself when he came. - -She tried to recall the few quarrels of her engagement and their -perturbing effect. They were such pale wraiths before this agitation, -following years of intense living, and quicked with the full knowledge -of the great possession she may have tossed to Memory, that they -dissolved upon evocation. She sprang to her feet again to pace the -room. At that moment the door opened and her husband entered. - -She had purposed to captivate him anew with her beauty, to shed several -tears, perhaps, but not enough to blister and inflame. She flew across -the room and flung herself about his neck and deluged his face with -tears, as she sobbed, and kissed him, and protested, and besought -forgiveness. - -His face had been stern as he entered. Although the appeal of her -letter was irresistible, he had no intention of capitulating without -reserves; but no man that loved a woman could be proof against such an -outburst of feeling and affection, and in a moment he was pressing her -in his arms and kissing her. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - - -THE next morning Mr. Forbes had an interview with Augusta. - -“I don’t choose to discuss this matter of your engagement with your -mother,” he said, “so we will come to an understanding at once, if you -please. Are you determined to marry this man, to take your mother’s -property in case I continue to refuse my consent?” - -“Papa! What else can I do? The invitations are out. We should be the -laughingstock of two continents. Besides, I am convinced that Bertie is -the one man I shall ever want to marry, and I cannot give him up.” - -“Very well. You and your mother have beaten me. Fortunately, you are -better able to stand the consequences of your acts than most women. I -doubt if you will ever realize them. I have an attorney here. He will -confer with the Duke’s attorneys to-morrow. Only, be good enough to -arrange matters so that I shall see as little as possible of your Duke -between now and the wedding. Your mother and I shall return to America -the day after the ceremony.” - -As Mr. Forbes left the room Augusta thoughtfully arranged the chiffon -on the front of her blouse. - -“Even a big man,” she reflected, “a great big man, a man who can make -Presidents of the United States, has no chance in the hands of two -determined women. We are quite dangerous when we know our power.” - -She added after a moment: - -“How gracefully he gave in. Dear papa! But that is the American of it. -We never sulk. We lose our temper. We come down with both feet. We -even kick hard and long when we want or don’t want a thing badly. But -when we find that it’s all no use, I flatter myself that we know how to -climb down.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - - -THE next two weeks flashed by. Besides the accumulating details -there were two visits to country houses and a daily breakfast or -dinner. Mr. Forbes, who had many friends in London, had no time -to be bored. Mrs. Forbes was happy and triumphant. Augusta’s serene -components pleasurably oscillated. - -The wedding was very brilliant, but not gorgeous. Mrs. Forbes was far -too clever to give society and the press an excuse to sneer at the -“vulgar display of American dollars.” St. George’s was decorated with -sufficient lavishness to make it appear a bower of delight after the -drive through rain and mud, but suggested to no mind the possible cost. - - -Royalty came from Cannes. The church was crowded to the doors with the -best blood in England. The dowager duchess, a stout plainly-garbed old -lady, sat with her daughters and grandchildren. She looked placid and -rather sleepy. Mrs. Forbes, who was gowned in violet velvet with a -point lace vest of new device, was flanked by her husband’s relatives -and the United States Embassy. Augusta, in a magnificent bridal robe of -satin and lace and pearls, her severely-cut features softened by the -white mist of her veil, looked stately and imposing. The maidens who -flanked her were not the friends of her youth, but their names were -writ in the style of chivalry, and Augusta’s equanimity was independent -of sentiment. The Duke’s bump of benevolence was on a level with her -small well-placed ear, but he also looked his best. - -As Mrs. Forbes listened to the words which affiliated her with several -of the greatest houses in the history of Europe, she thrilled with -gratified ambition and the more strictly feminine pleasure of having -her own way. Suddenly her glance rested on her husband. He stood with -his arms folded, his eyes lowered, an expression of bitter defeat on -his face. - -The blood dropped from her cheeks to her heart; the rosy atmosphere -turned grey. “He says that he has forgiven me,” she thought. “Has he? -Has he? But I will make him! Any impressions can be effaced with time -and persistence, and others that are ever present.” - -After the ceremony there was a breakfast at the Embassy. Only the -members of the two families, the few intimate friends, and the -bridesmaids were present. The company was barely seated when Fletcher -Cuyler rose, leaned his finger tips lightly on the table and glanced -about with his affable and impish grin. - -“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention if you please,” he commanded. -“I wish the individually expressed thanks of each member of this -assemblage. Not for being the happy instrument in bringing this -auspicious marriage about--although I confess the imputation--but for a -more immediate benefit, one which I have conferred equally upon each of -you, and upon the many hundreds who were so fortunate as to witness the -ceremony which bound together two of the most distinguished families of -America and Great Britain. I allude to the wedding-march. You doubtless -noticed that it was played as it should be, as it rarely is. I have -attended twenty-two weddings in St. George’s----” - -“Sit down, Fletcher,” said the First Secretary impatiently. “What are -you talking about? Do kindly take a back seat for once.” - -“On the contrary, I am entitled to a high chair in the front row. I -played that march. You do not believe me? Ask the organist--when he is -able to articulate. He is red-hot and speechless at present. I calmly -approached him as he was pulling out his cuffs, and said: ‘Young man’ -(he is venerable, but I too am bald), ‘move aside if you please. I -am to play this wedding-march. The Duke of Bosworth is my particular -friend. It is my way of giving him good luck. At once. There is the -signal.’ I fancy I hypnotized him. He slid off the stool mechanically. -I lost no time taking his place. When he had recovered and was -threatening police I was playing as even I had never played before. -That is all.” - -Everybody laughed, the Duke more heartily than anyone. Fletcher was one -of the few of life’s gifts for which he was consistently thankful. - -“You shall come with us to-day,” he said, delighted with the sudden -inspiration; and Fletcher, who had intended to go whether he was -invited or not, graciously accepted. - -The breakfast party was informal and gay. Toasts were given and the -responses clever. Even Mr. Forbes, who had no idea of being a death’s -head at a feast, forced himself into his best vein. - -The Duke drank a good deal of wine and said little. He was, on the -whole, well content. Mr. Forbes had handed over two hundred thousand -pounds with which to repair Aire Castle, and settled the income of -eight hundred thousand pounds on the young people, the principal to go -to their children. The Duke reflected gratefully that he should have -no cause to be ashamed of his bride. She was not beautiful, but even -his relatives had approved of her manners and style. He forgave her for -having bored him, for she had brought him a certain peace of mind; and -she should have as many M.P.’s to talk political economy to as she (or -they) listed. He would talk to Fletcher, and others. - -Mrs. Forbes had her especial toasts. Even here, at this anti-climax -dear to the heart of a bride, she was the personage. She looked regal -and surpassing fair, for her eyes were very soft; and she had never -been happier of speech. The Duke, who admired her with what enthusiasm -was left in him, proposed a toast to which the Ambassador himself -responded. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - - -WHEN it was over and Mr. Forbes and his wife had returned to -the hotel, she put her hands on his shoulders and looked him in the -eyes. - -“Tell me,” she said imperiously; “have you really forgiven me? I have -almost been sure at times that you had. I have felt it. But you have -not been quite your old dear self. I want to hear you say again that -you forgive me, and it is the last time that I shall refer to the -subject.” - -“Yes,” he said, adjusting a lock that had fallen over her ear, “I have -forgiven you, of course. We are to live the rest of our lives together. -I am not so unwise, I hope, as to nurse offended pride and resentment.” - -The colour left her face. She came closer. - -“Tell me!” she said, her voice vibrating. “Won’t it ever be quite the -same again? Is that what you mean?” - -He took her in his arms and laid his cheek against hers. “Oh, I don’t -know,” he said, “I don’t know.” - - -THE END. - - - - -D. APPLETON & COMPANY’S PUBLICATIONS. - - - - -RUDYARD KIPLING’S NEW BOOK. - - - _THE SEVEN SEAS._ A new volume of poems by RUDYARD - KIPLING, author of “Many Inventions,” “Barrack-Room Ballads,” - etc. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50; half calf, $3.00; morocco, $5.00. - -“The spirit and method of Kipling’s fresh and virile song have taken -the English reading world.... 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The quaint simplicity of its style is delightful, and -the adventures recorded in these ‘Chronicles of Count Antonio’ are -as stirring and ingenious as any conceived even by Weyman at his -best.”--_New York World._ - -“Romance of the real flavor, wholly and entirely romance, and narrated -in true romantic style. The characters, drawn with such masterly -handling, are not merely pictures and portraits, but statues that are -alive and step boldly from the canvas.”--_Boston Courier._ - -“Told in a wonderfully simple and direct style, and with the magic -touch of a man who has the genius of narrative, making the varied -incidents flow naturally and rapidly in a stream of sparkling -discourse.”--_Detroit Tribune._ - -“Easily ranks with, if not above, ‘A Prisoner of Zenda.’... Wonderfully -strong, graphic, and compels the interest of the most _blasé_ -novel reader.”--_Boston Advertiser._ - -“No adventures were ever better worth telling than those of Count -Antonio.... The author knows full well how to make every pulse thrill, -and how to hold his readers under the spell of his magic.”--_Boston -Herald._ - -“A book to make women weep proud tears, and the blood of men to tingle -with knightly fervor.... In ‘Count Antonio’ we think Mr. Hope surpasses -himself, as he has already surpassed all the other story-tellers of the -period.”--_New York Spirit of the Times._ - - - - - _THE REDS OF THE MIDI._ An Episode of the French Revolution. - BY FÉLIX GRAS. Translated from the Provençal by Mrs. - CATHARINE A. JANVIER. With an Introduction by THOMAS A. - JANVIER. With Frontispiece. 12 mo. Cloth, $1.50. - -“It is doubtful whether in the English language we have had a more -powerful, impressive, artistic picture of the French Revolution, from -the revolutionist’s point of view, than that in Félix Gras’s ‘The Reds -of the Midi.’... Adventures follow one another rapidly; splendid, -brilliant pictures are frequent, and the thread of a tender, beautiful -love story winds in and out of its pages.”--_New York Mail and -Express._ - -“‘The Reds of the Midi’ is a red rose from Provence, a breath of pure -air in the stifling atmosphere of present-day romance--a stirring -narrative of one of the most picturesque events of the Revolution. -It is told with all the strength of simplicity and directness; it is -warm and pulsating, and fairly trembles with excitement.”--_Chicago -Record._ - -“To the names Dickens, Hugo, and Erckmann-Chatrian must be added that -of Félix Gras, as a romancer who has written a tale of the French -Revolution not only possessing historical interest, but charming as -a story. A delightful piece of literature, of a rare and exquisite -flavor.”--_Buffalo Express._ - -“No more forcible presentation of the wrongs which the poorer classes -suffered in France at the end of the eighteenth century has ever been -put between the covers of a book.”--_Boston Budget._ - -“Every page is alive with incidents or scenes of the time, and any one -who reads it will get a vivid picture that can never be forgotten of -the Reign of Terror in Paris.”--_San Francisco Chronicle._ - -“The author has a rare power of presenting vivid and lifelike pictures. -He is a true artist.... His warm, glowing, Provençal imagination sees -the tremendous battalion of death even as the no less warm and glowing -imagination of Carlyle saw it.”--_London Daily Chronicle._ - -“Of ‘The Reds of the Midi’ itself is safe to predict that the story -will become one of the most widely popular stories of the next few -months. It certainly deserves such appreciative recognition, for it -throbs with vital interest in every line.... The characters are living, -stirring, palpitating human beings, who will glow in the reader’s -memory long after he has turned over the last pages of this remarkably -fascinating book.”--_London Daily Mail._ - -“A charmingly told story, and all the more delightful because of the -unstudied simplicity of the spokesman, Pascalet. Félix Gras is a true -artist, and he has pleaded the cause of a hated people with the tact -and skill that only an artist could employ.”--_Chicago Evening -Post._ - -“Much excellent revolutionary fiction in many languages has been -written since the announcement of the expiration of 1889, or rather -since the contemporary publication of old war records newly discovered, -but there is none more vivid than this story of the men of the south, -written by one of their own blood.”--_Boston Herald._ - - - - -BY S. R. CROCKETT. - -Uniform edition. Each, 12mo. cloth, $1.50. - - - _LADS’ LOVE._ Illustrated. - -In this fresh and charming story, which in some respects recalls “The -Lilac Sunbonnet,” Mr. Crockett returns to Galloway and pictures the -humor and pathos of the life of the city he knows so well. - - - _CLEG KELLY, ARAB OF THE CITY. His Progress and Adventures._ - Illustrated. - -“A masterpiece which Mark Twain himself has never rivaled.... If -there ever was an ideal character in fiction it is this heroic -ragamuffin.”--_London Daily Chronicle._ - -“In no one of his books does Mr. Crockett give us a brighter or more -graphic picture of contemporary Scotch life than in ‘Cleg Kelly.’... It -it one of the great books.”--_Boston Daily Advertiser._ - -“One of the most successful of Mr. Crockett’s works.”--_Brooklyn -Eagle._ - - - _BOG-MYRTLE AND PEAT._ Third edition. - -“Here are idyls, epics, dramas of human life, written in words that -thrill and burn.... Each is a poem that has an immortal flavor. They -are fragments of the author’s early dreams, too bright, too gorgeous, -too full of the blood of rubies and the life of diamonds to be caught -and held palpitating in expression’s grasp.”--_Boston Courier._ - -“Hardly a sketch among them all that will not afford pleasure to the -reader for its genial humor, artistic local coloring, and admirable -portrayal of character.”--_Boston Home Journal._ - -“One dips into the book anywhere and reads on and on, fascinated by the -writer’s charm of manner.”--_Minneapolis Tribune._ - - - _THE LILAC SUNBONNET._ Eighth edition. - -“A love story pure and simple, one of the old-fashioned, wholesome, -sunshiny kind, with a pure-minded, sound-hearted hero, and a heroine -who is merely a good and beautiful woman; and if any other love -story half so sweet has been written this year, it has escaped our -notice.”--_New York Times._ - -“The general conception of the story, the motive of which is the growth -of love between the young chief and heroine, is delineated with a -sweetness and a freshness, a naturalness and a certainty which places -‘The Lilac Sunbonnet’ among the best stories of the time.”--_New York -Mail and Express._ - -“In its own line this little love story can hardly be excelled. It -is a pastoral, an idyl--the story of love and courtship and marriage -of a fine young man and a lovely girl--no more. But it is told in so -thoroughly delightful a manner, with such playful humor, such delicate -fancy, such true and sympathetic feeling, that nothing more could be -desired.”--_Boston Traveller._ - - - - -BY A. CONAN DOYLE. - -_Uniform edition. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50 per volume._ - - - _RODNEY STONE._ Illustrated. - -“A remarkable book, worthy of the pen that gave us ‘The White Company,’ -‘Micah Clarke,’ and other notable romances.”--_London Daily News._ - -“A notable and very brilliant work of genius.”--_London Speaker._ - -“‘Rodney Stone’ is, in our judgment, distinctly the best of Dr. Conan -Doyle’s novels.... There are few descriptions in fiction that can vie -with that race upon the Brighton road.”--_London Times._ - - - _THE EXPLOITS OF BRIGADIER GERARD. A Romance of the Life of a - Typical Napoleonic Soldier._ Illustrated. - -“The brigadier is brave, resolute, amorous, loyal, chivalrous; never -was a foe more ardent in battle, more clement in victory, or more ready -at need.... Gallantry, humor, gayety, moving incident, make up a really -delightful book.”--_London Times._ - -“May be set down days without reservation as the most thoroughly -enjoyable book that Dr. Doyle has ever published.”--_Boston -Beacon._ - - - _THE STARK MUNRO LETTERS._ Being a Series of Twelve Letters - written by STARK MUNRO, M. B., to his friend and former - fellow-student, Herbert Swanborough, of Lowell, Massachusetts, during - the years 1881-1884. Illustrated. - -“Cullingworth, ... a much more interesting creation than Sherlock -Holmes, and I pray Dr. Doyle to give us more of him.”--_Richard le -Gallienne, in the London Star._ - -“One of the freshest figures to be met with in any recent -fiction.”--_London Daily News._ - -“‘The Stark Munro Letters’ is a bit of real literature.... Its reading -will be an epoch-making event in many a life.”--_Philadelphia Evening -Telegraph._ - - - _ROUND THE RED LAMP._ Being Facts and Fancies of Medical Life. - -“Too much cannot be said in praise of these strong productions, that, -to read, keep one’s heart leaping to the throat, and the mind in a -tumult of anticipation to the end.... No series of short stories in -modern can approach them.”--_Hartford Times._ - - - - -BOOKS BY MRS. EVERARD COTES (SARA JEANNETTE DUNCAN). - - - _HIS HONOUR, AND A LADY._ Illustrated, 12mo. Cloth, $1.50. - -“‘His Honour, and a Lady’ is a finished novel, colored with true local -dyes and instinct with the Anglo-Indian and pure Indian spirit, besides -a perversion by originality of created character and a crisp way of -putting things.”--_Chicago Times-Herald._ - - - _THE STORY OF SONNY SAHIB._ Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00. - -“As perfect a story of its kind as can be imagined.”--_Chicago -Times-Herald._ - - - _VERNON’S AUNT._ With many Illustrations. 12mo. Cloth, $1.25. - -“A most vivid and realistic impression of certain phases of life in -India, and no one can read her vivacious chronicle without indulging in -many a hearty laugh.”--_Boston Beacon._ - - - _A DAUGHTER OF TO-DAY._ A Novel. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50. - -“This novel is a strong and serious piece of work; one of a kind that -is getting too rare in these days of universal crankiness.”--_Boston -Courier._ - - - _A SOCIAL DEPARTURE: How Orthodocia and I Went Round the World by - Ourselves._ With 111 Illustrations by F. H. TOWNSEND, - 12mo. Paper, 75 cents; cloth $1.75. - -“A brighter, merrier, more entirely charming book would be, indeed, -difficult to find.”--_St. Louis Republic._ - - - _AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON._ With 80 Illustrations by F. H. - TOWNSEND, 12mo. Paper, 75 cents; cloth, $1.50. - -“So sprightly a book as this, on life in London observed by an -American, has never before been written.”--_Philadelphia Bulletin._ - - - _THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEMSAHIB._ With 37 Illustrations by - F. H. TOWNSEND. 12mo. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: His fortunate Grace</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Gertrude Atherton</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: June 1, 2022 [eBook #68222]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: D A Alexander and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by University of California libraries)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HIS FORTUNATE GRACE ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter hide" style="width: 30%"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Cover" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<p class="ph1">HIS FORTUNATE GRACE</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<h1>His Fortunate Grace</h1> - -<p class="center no-indent">By</p> - -<p class="ph3">Gertrude Atherton</p> - -<p class="center no-indent p6b"> -Author of A Whirl Asunder, The Doomswoman,<br /> -Patience Sparhawk and Her Times,<br /> -Before The Gringo Came, Etc.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 70px;"> -<img src="images/i_title.jpg" width="70" alt="Publishers Logo" /></div> - -<p class="ph3 p6">New York<br /> -D. Appleton and Company<br /> -1897</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<p class="center no-indent"><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1897,<br /> -By</span> D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center no-indent">TO<br /> -<br /> -ALEECE VAN BERGEN.</p></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph2 nobreak" id="HIS_FORTUNATE_GRACE">HIS FORTUNATE GRACE.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="tiny" /> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.</h2> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Are</span> you quite sure?” Mr. Forbes laid -down his newspaper, and looked with slightly -extended mouth at his daughter who leaned -forward in an attitude of suppressed energy, -her hands clasped on the edge of the breakfast-table. -The heiress of many millions was not -handsome: her features were large and her -complexion dull; but she had the carriage and -‘air’ of the New York girl of fashion, and -wore a French morning-toilette which would -have ameliorated a Gorgon.</p> - -<p>“Quite sure, papa.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose you have studied the question -exhaustively.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</span></p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, indeed. I have read Karl Marx -and Henry George and a lot of others. I -suppose you have not forgotten that I belong -to a club of girls who aspire to be something -more than fashionable butterflies, and that we -read together?”</p> - -<p>“And you are also positive that you wish -me to divide my fortune with my fellow-men, -and deprive you of the pleasant position of -heiress?”</p> - -<p>“Perfectly positive,” firmly. “It is terrible, -terrible to think of the starving thousands. -I feel it my duty to tell you, papa, that if you -do not do this yourself, I shall—when—when—but -I cannot even think of that.”</p> - -<p>“No; don’t worry about it. I’m good for -twenty or thirty years yet——”</p> - -<p>“You are the handsomest and most distinguished-looking -man in New York.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks. To proceed: I should say that -you are likely to be several things meanwhile.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</span> -I don’t know that I shall even take the trouble -to alter my will. Still, I may—that is unless -you convert me. And you are also convinced -that women should have the vote?”</p> - -<p>“Yes! Yes! indeed I am. I know all -the arguments for and against. I’ve heard -and read everything. You see, if we get the -vote we can bring Socialism about quite -easily.”</p> - -<p>“Without the slightest difficulty, I should -say, considering the homogeneity of the -feminine mind.”</p> - -<p>“You darling sarcastic thing. But can’t -you see what weight such women as we are -interesting in the cause <i>must</i> have? We -have carefully excluded the <i>nouveau riche</i>; -only the very oldest and most notable names -will be on our petition when we get it up.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you are going to get up a petition? -Well, let that pass for the present. Suppose -you fall in love and want to marry?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</span></p> - -<p>“I shall tell him everything. What I -intend to make of my life—do with what -wealth I have at my disposal. If he does -not sympathize with me and agree to my -plans, he must go. A woman’s chief end -is not matrimony.”</p> - -<p>“I need not ask if you have ever been -in love?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, of course, I want to be, dreadfully. -All women do—even we advanced women—now, -papa! I don’t love you quite so well -when you smile like that. I am twenty-one, -and that is quite old for a girl who has been -highly educated, has travelled, and been out -two years. I have a right to call myself advanced, -because I have gone deliberately into -the race, and have read up a great deal, even -if I have as yet accomplished nothing. Exactly -how much are you worth, papa?”</p> - -<p>“Broadly speaking, about thirty millions. -As a great deal of that is in railroad and other<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</span> -stock, I am liable to be worth much less any -day; much is also in land, which is worth -only what it will bring. Still, I should -say that I am reasonably sure of a fair -amount.”</p> - -<p>“It is terrible, papa! All that land! Do -give some of it at least to the poor dear -people—I assure you we feel that we have -taken them under our wing, and have grown -quite sentimental over them. Mr. George -would tell you what to do, at once. That -man’s very baggy knees fascinate me: he is so -magnificently in earnest. When he scolded -us all for being rich, the other day at the -meeting, I loved him.”</p> - -<p>“It is a great relief to me that George is a -married man. Well, my dear, your allowance -is ten thousand dollars a year. Do what you -please with it, and come to me if your fads -and whims demand more. God forbid that -I should stand in the way of any woman’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</span> -happiness. By the by, what does your -mother think of this business?”</p> - -<p>“She is <i>most</i> unsympathetic.”</p> - -<p>“So I should imagine,” said Mr. Forbes, -drily. “Your mother is the cleverest woman -I know.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">After</span> luncheon, Miss Forbes hied herself -to a drawing-room meeting in behalf of -Socialism. Despite the fact that she had -elected the rôle of mental muscularity, she -gave studious application to her attire: her -position and all that pertained to it were -her enduring religion; the interests of the -flashing seasons were unconsciously patronised -rather than assimilated. As she walked -up the Avenue toward the house of her -friend, Mrs. Latimer Burr, she looked like -a well-grown lad masquerading in a very -smart outfit of brown tweed, so erect and -soldierly was her carriage, so independent -her little stride. A bunch of violets was -pinned to her muff, another at her throat,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</span> -and she wore a severe little toque instead -of the picture-hat she usually affected.</p> - -<p>She smiled as she swung along, and one -or two women looked back at her and -sighed. She was quite happy. She had -never known an ungratified wish; she was -spoken of in the newspapers as one of the -few intellectual young women in New York -society; and now she had a really serious -object in life. She felt little spasms of -gratification that she had been born to set -the world to rights—she and a few others: -she felt that she was not selfish, for she -grudged no one a share in the honours.</p> - -<p>When she reached Mrs. Burr’s house, high -on the Avenue, and overlooking the naked -trees and the glittering white of the Park, -she found that other toilettes had taken less -time than hers: several of her friends complimented -the occasion with a punctuality -which she commended without envy.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span></p> - -<p>The large drawing-room, which was to be -the scene of operations, was a marvellous -combination of every pale colour known to -nature and art, and looked expectant of -white-wigged dames, sparkling with satin -and diamonds, tripping the mazes of the -minuet with gentlemen as courtly as their -dress was rich and colourous. But only a -half-dozen extremely smart young women -of the hoary Nineteenth Century sat in a -group, talking as fast as seals on a rock; -and the slim little hostess was compactly -gowned in pearl-grey cloth, her sleek head -dressed in the fashion of the moment.</p> - -<p>She came forward, a lorgnette held close -to her eyes. “How dear of you, Augusta, -to be so prompt!” she said, kissing her -lightly. “Dear me! I wish I could be as -frightfully in earnest as the rest of you, -but for the life of me I can’t help feeling -that it’s all a jolly good lark—perhaps that’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span> -the effect of my ex-sister-in-law, Patience -Sparhawk, who says we are only playing -at being alive. But we can’t all have -seventeen different experiences before we -are twenty-four, including a sojourn in -Murders’ Row, and a frantic love affair -with one’s own husband——”</p> - -<p>“Tell me, Hal, what is a woman like who -has been through all that?” interrupted Augusta, -her ears pricking with girlish curiosity. -“Is she eccentric? Does she look -old—or something?”</p> - -<p>“She’s not much like us,” said Mrs. Burr, -briefly. “You’ll meet her in time; it’s odd -you never happened to, even if you weren’t -out. Of course she can’t go out for awhile -yet; it would hardly be good taste, even if she -wanted to.”</p> - -<p>“How interestingly dreadful to have had -such a thing in the family. But I should think -she would be just the one to take life seriously.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span></p> - -<p>“Oh, she does; that’s the reason she -doesn’t waste any time. Here is someone -else. Who is it?—oh, Mary Gallatin.”</p> - -<p>Augusta joined the group.</p> - -<p>“Where is Mabel Creighton?” demanded -one of the girls. “I thought she was coming -with you.”</p> - -<p>“Haven’t you heard?” Miss Forbes, with -an air of elaborate indifference, drew her eyelids -together as if to focus a half-dozen women -that were entering. “The Duke of Bosworth -arrives to-day, and she has stayed at home to -receive him.”</p> - -<p>“Augusta! What do you mean? <i>What</i> -Duke of Bosworth?”</p> - -<p>“There is only one duke of the same name -at a time, my dear. This is the Duke of Bosworth -of Aire Castle—and I suppose a half-dozen -others—of the West Riding, of the district -of Craven, of the County of Yorkshire, -England. He has five other titles, I believe;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span> -and enjoys the honour of the friendship of -Fletcher Cuyler.”</p> - -<p>“Well!”</p> - -<p>“Mabel met him abroad, and got to know -him quite well; and when he wrote her that -he should arrive to-day, she thought it only -hospitable to stay at home and receive -him.”</p> - -<p>“Are they engaged? Augusta, <i>do</i> be an -angel.”</p> - -<p>“I am sure I have not the slightest idea -whether they are engaged or not. Mabel -always has a flirtation on with somebody.”</p> - -<p>“What is he like? How perfectly funny! -How quiet she has kept him. Is he good-looking—or—well, -just like some of the -others?”</p> - -<p>“Mabel has merely mentioned him to me, -and I have not seen his photograph.”</p> - -<p>“She’d make a lovely bride; and Mrs. -Creighton has such exquisite taste—St. Thomas’<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span> -would be a dream, I suppose he’ll wear a -grey suit with the trousers turned up and a -pink shirt. I do hope he won’t walk up the -Avenue with her with a big black cigar in his -mouth.”</p> - -<p>“Is that what we came here to talk -about?” asked Miss Forbes, severely. -“What difference does it make what a foreign -titled thing looks like? We are here to discuss -a question which will one day exterminate -the entire order.”</p> - -<p>“True,” exclaimed a dark-haired distinguished-looking -girl who was mainly responsible -for the intellectual reputation of her set, -albeit not exempt from the witchery of fads. -“We must stop gossiping and attend to -business. Do you know that I am expected -to speak? How am I to collect my -thoughts?”</p> - -<p>“You have so many, Alex,” said Miss -Forbes, admiringly, “that it wouldn’t matter<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span> -if a few got loose. Have you prepared your -speech? I have mine by heart.”</p> - -<p>“I have thought it out. I don’t think I -shall be frightened; it is really such a very -serious matter.”</p> - -<p>“Have you spoken to your father?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, we’ve talked it over, but I can’t say -that he agrees with us.”</p> - -<p>Augusta laughed consciously. “There are -probably some points of similarity in our experiences. -But we must be firm.”</p> - -<p>Some thirty women, gowned with fashionable -simplicity, had arrived, and were seated -in a large double semi-circle. They looked -alert and serious. Mrs. Burr drifted aimlessly -about for a moment, then paused before a table -and tapped it smartly with her lorgnette.</p> - -<p>“I suppose we may as well begin,” she -said. “I believe we are going to discuss to-day -the—a—the advisability of women having -the vote—franchise. Also Socialism. Miss<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span> -Maitland, who has thoroughly digested both -subjects, and many more, has kindly consented -to speak; and Dr. Broadhead is coming -in later to give us one of his good scoldings. -Alexandra, will you open the ball?”</p> - -<p>“Hal, you are incorrigible,” exclaimed -Miss Maitland, drawing her dark brows together. -“At least you might pretend to be in -earnest. We think it very good of you to -lend us your house, and we are delighted that -you managed Dr. Broadhead so cleverly, but -we don’t wish to be flouted, for we, at least, -are in earnest.”</p> - -<p>“Alexis, if you scold me, I shall cry. And -I’ll now be serious—I swear it. You know I -admire you to death. Your French poetry is -adorable; you have more ideas for decorating -than any professional in New York, and you -fence like a real Amazon. I am simply dying -to hear you make a speech; but first let me -see if Latimer is hiding anywhere.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span></p> - -<p>She went out into the hall and returned in -a moment. “It would be just like Latimer to -get Fletcher Cuyler and listen, and then guy -us. Now, Alexandra, proceed,” and she -seated herself, and applied her lorgnette to her -bright quizzical eyes.</p> - -<p>Miss Maitland, somewhat embarrassed by -her introduction, stepped to the middle of the -room and faced her audience. She gave a -quick sidelong glance at her skirts. They -stood out like a yacht under full sail. She was -a fine looking girl, far above woman’s height, -with dignified features, a bright happy expression, -and a soft colour. She was a trifle nervous, -and opened her jacket to gain time, -throwing it back.</p> - -<p>“That’s a Paquin blouse,” whispered a -girl confidently to Augusta.</p> - -<p>“Sh-h!” said Miss Forbes severely.</p> - -<p>Miss Maitland showed no further symptom -of nervousness. She clasped her hands lightly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span> -and did not make a gesture nor shift her position -during her speech. Her repose was very -impressive.</p> - -<p>“I think we should vote,” she said decidedly. -“It will not be agreeable in many -respects, and will heavily increase our responsibilities, -but the reasons for far outweigh -those against. A good many of us have -money in our own names. We all have large -allowances. Some day we may have the terrible -responsibility of great wealth. The income-tax -is in danger of being defeated. If -we get the vote, we may do much toward -making it a law, and it is a move in the right -direction towards Socialism. Our next must -be towards persuading the Government to -take the railroads. It is shocking that the -actual costs of transit should be so small, the -charges so exorbitant and the profits so enormous. -I feel this so oppressively that every -time I make a long journey by rail, I give the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span> -equivalent of my fare to the poor at once. It -is a horrifying thing that we on this narrow -island of New York city should live like hothouse -plants in the midst of a malarious -swamp: that almost at our back doors the -poor are living, whole families in one room, -and on one meal a day. My father gives me -many thousands a year for charity, but charity -is not the solution of the problem. There -must be a redistribution of wealth. Of course -I have no desire to come down to poverty; I -am physically unfit for it, as are all of us. We -should have sufficient left to insure our comfort; -but any woman with brain can get along -without the more extravagant luxuries. It is -time that we did something to justify our existence, -and if the law required that we -worked two or three hours a day instead of -leading the idle life of pleasure that we -do——”</p> - -<p>“We are ornamental; that is something,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span> -exclaimed a remarkably pretty woman. “I -am sure the people outside love to read about -and look at us. Society gossip is not written -for <i>us</i>.”</p> - -<p>Miss Maitland smiled. “You certainly are -ornamental, Mary,” she said; “but fancy how -much more interesting you would be if you -were useful as well.”</p> - -<p>“I’d lose my good looks.”</p> - -<p>“Well, you can’t keep them forever. You -should cultivate a substitute meanwhile, and -then you never need be driven back into the -ranks of <i>passée</i>, disappointed women. Faded -beauties are a bore to everybody.”</p> - -<p>“I refuse to contemplate such a prospect. -Alex, you are getting to be a horrid rude advanced -New Woman.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Burr clapped her hands. “How delightful!” -she cried, “I didn’t know we were -to have a debate.”</p> - -<p>“Now keep quiet, all of you,” said Miss<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span> -Maitland; “I have not finished. Mary Gallatin, -don’t you interrupt me again. Now that -we understand this question so thoroughly, -we must have more recruits. Of course, hundreds -of women of the upper class are signing -the petition asking for the extension of the -franchise to our sex, but few of them are interested -in Socialism. And if it is to be brought -about, it must be by us. I have little faith in -the rag-tag bob-tail element at present enlisted -in that cause. They not only carry little -weight with the more intelligent part of the -community, but I have been assured that they -would not fight—that they take it out in talk; -that if ever there was a great upheaval, they -would let the anarchists do the killing, and -then step in, and try to get control later.</p> - -<p>“Now, I thoroughly despise a coward; so -do all women; and I have no faith in the -propagandism of men that won’t fight. -What we must do is to enlist our men.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span> -They are luxurious now, and love all that -pertains to wealth; but, as Wellington said -once of the same class in England: ‘The -puppies can fight!’ Not that our men are -puppies—don’t misunderstand me—but you -know what I mean. They would only -seem so to a man who had spent his life -in the saddle.</p> - -<p>“It has been said that the Civil War took -our best blood, and that that is the reason -we have no great men now; all the most -gallant and high-minded and ambitious were -killed—although I don’t forget that Mr. -Forbes could be anything that he chose. -I suppose he thinks that American statesmanship -has fallen so low that he scorns -to come out avowedly as the head of his -party, and merely amuses himself pulling -the wires. But I feel positive that if a -tremendous crisis ever arose, it would be -Mr. Forbes who would unravel the snarl.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span> -You can tell him that, Augusta, with my -compliments.</p> - -<p>“Now, I have come to the real point of -what I have to say. It was first suggested -to me by Helena Belmont when she was on -here last, and it has taken a strong hold -on my mind. We must awaken the soul -in our men—that is what they lack. The -germ is there, but it has not been developed; -perhaps I should say that the soul -of the American people rose to its full -flower during the Civil War, and then -withered in the reaction, and in the commercial -atmosphere which has since fitted -our nation closer than its own skin. Miss -Belmont says that nothing will arouse the -men but another war; that they will be -nothing but a well-fed body with a mental -annex until they once more have a -‘big atmosphere’ to expand in. But I -don’t wholly agree with her, and the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span> -thought of another such sacrifice is appalling. -I believe that the higher qualities in -man can be roused more surely by woman -than by bloodshed, and that if we, the -women of New York, the supposed orchids, -butterflies, or whatever people choose to call -us, whose luxury is the cynosure and envy -of the continent, could be instrumental in -giving back to the nation its lost spiritual -quality—understand, please, that I do not -use the word in its religious sense—it -would be a far greater achievement than -any for which the so-called emancipated -women are vociferating. The vote is a -minor consideration. If we acquire the influence -over men that we should, we shall -not need it. And personally, I should dispense -with it with great pleasure.”</p> - -<p>“Bravo! young lady,” exclaimed a vibrating -resonant voice, and a clerical man entered -the room to the clapping of many<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span> -hands. His eyes were keen and restless, -his hair and beard black and silver, and -there was a curious disconcerting bald spot -on his chin. He looked ready to burst with -energy.</p> - -<p>“Thank you all very much, but don’t -clap any more, for I have only a few -minutes to spare. How do you do, Mrs. -Burr? Yes, that was a very good speech—I -have been eavesdropping, you see. Feminine, -but I am the last to quarrel with -that. It is not necessary for a woman to -be logical so long as her instincts are in -the right direction. Well, I will say a few -words to you; but they must be few as I -am very hoarse: I have been speaking all -day.” He strode about as he talked, and -occasionally smote his hands together. He -was a very emphatic speaker, and, like all -crusaders, somewhat theatrical.</p> - -<p>“I agree with all that Miss Maitland has<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span> -said to you—with the exception of her -views on Socialism, I don’t believe Socialism -to be the solution of our loathsome -municipal degradation nor of the universal -social evil. But I have no time to go into -that question to-day. The other part—that -you must awaken the soul of the men of -your class—I most heartily endorse. The -gentlemen alone can save this country—snatch -it from the hands of plebeians and -thieves. In them alone lies the hope of -American regeneration. When I read of a -strapping young man who has been educated -at Harvard, or Yale, or Princeton, -who is an expert boxer, fencer, whip, oarsman, -yachtsman, addicted to all manly -sport, in fact—when I read of such a man -having tortoise-shell brushes with diamond -monograms, diamond garter buckles, and -thirty sets of silk pyjamas—never see their -names in the paper except as ushers at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span> -weddings, or as having added some new -trifle to their costly apartments, it makes -me sick—sick! A war would rouse these -young men, as Miss Maitland suggests; I -haven’t the slightest doubt that they would -fight magnificently, and that those who survived -would be serious and useful men for -the rest of their lives. But we don’t want -war, and you must do the rousing. Make -them vote—vote—nullify the thieving lying -cormorants who are fattening on your country, -and ruining it morally and financially, -as well as making it the scorn and jest of -Europe. And make them vote, not only -this year, but every year for the rest of -their lives, and on every possible question. -It is to be hoped, indeed, that no war will -come to awaken their manhood—we don’t -want to pay so hideous a price as that, -and it is shocking that it has been found -necessary to suggest it. But what we do<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span> -want is a great moral war. Lash them into -that, and see that they do not break ranks -until they have honest men in the legislature, -in Congress, and in every municipal -office in the country. Now, I must be off,” -and waving a hasty adieu, he shot out.</p> - -<p>“For my part,” said Mrs. Burr, above -the enthusiastic chorus, “I am delighted -that he didn’t uphold Socialism. I’ll undertake -the reformation of Latimer, although -it will probably give me wrinkles and turn -me grey, but I won’t have him giving up -his ‘boodle,’ as they say out West; not I! -not I!”</p> - -<p>“Gally is hopeless,” said that famous -clubman’s wife, with a sigh. “I shall have -to work on someone else.”</p> - -<p>“It will be lots more interesting,” murmured -her neighbour.</p> - -<p>“How shall we begin?” asked Mrs. -Burr, wrinkling her smooth brow. “Put<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span> -them on gruel and hot water for awhile? -I am sure they are hopeless so long as -they eat and drink so much.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose all we girls will have to -marry,” remarked one of them.</p> - -<p>“Well, you would, anyhow,” said Mrs. -Burr, consolingly.</p> - -<p>“I shall not marry until I find the right -man,” said Augusta firmly, “not if I die -an old maid. But father would be a splendid -convert, and his name would carry -great weight.”</p> - -<p>“You mean for Socialism,” replied her -hostess. “No man does his political duty -more religiously than Mr. Forbes. But let -us send Socialism to—ahem—and just work -at the other thing. I am dying to see how -Latimer will take it.”</p> - -<p>“Never!” exclaimed Augusta, and was -echoed loyally. “We must not lose sight -of that. I don’t at all agree with Dr.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span> -Broadhead on that point. I have fully -made up my mind to bring papa round.”</p> - -<p>“But you are at a disadvantage, darling,” -said Mrs. Burr, drily; “your beautiful mamma -thinks we are all a pack of idiots, and -your father has a great respect for her -opinion, to say nothing of being more or -less <i>épris</i>.”</p> - -<p>“I shall convert her too,” said Augusta -sturdily.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Burr laughed outright. “I can just -see Mrs. Forbes posing as a prophet of Socialism. -Well, let us eat. Alexis, you must be -limp all the way down, and your thinker -must be fairly staggering. I will pour you a -stiff cup of tea and put some rum in it.”</p> - -<p>Augusta rose. “I must go, Hal,” she -said. “I have a speech to make myself in -the slums, you know. Aren’t you coming?”</p> - -<p>“I? God forbid! But do take something<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span> -before you go. It may save you -from stage-fright.”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t a minute. I must be there -in twenty. Who is coming with me?”</p> - -<p>Eight or ten of the company rose and -hurried out with her; the rest gathered -about the tea-table and relieved their mental -tension in amicable discussion of the -lighter matters of the day.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">A footman</span> had taken the Duke of Bosworth’s -cards up to Miss Mabel Creighton and -her mother. The young man had arrived but -an hour before and still wore his travelling -gear, but had been given to understand that -an English peer was welcome in a New York -drawing-room on any terms. The drawing-room -in which he awaited the American -maiden who had taken his attenuated fancy -was large and sumptuous and very expensive. -There were tables of ormolu, and cabinets of -tortoise-shell containing collections of cameos, -fens and miniatures, a <i>lapis lazuli</i> clock three -feet high, and a piano inlaid with twenty-seven -different woods. The walls were frescoed -by a famous hand, and there were lamps<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span> -and candle-brackets and various articles of -decoration which must have been picked up -in extensive travels.</p> - -<p>The Duke noted everything with his slow -listless gaze. He sat forward on the edge of -his chair, his chin pressed to the head of his -stick. He was a small delicately-built man, -of thirty or more. His shoulders had rounded -slightly. His cheeks and lower lip were beginning -to droop. The pale blue eyes were -dim, the lids red. He was a debauchee, but -“a good sort,” and men liked him.</p> - -<p>He did not move during the quarter of an -hour he was kept waiting, but when the -<i>portière</i> was pushed aside he rose quickly, and -went forward with much grace and charm of -manner. The girl who entered was a dainty -blonde fluffy creature, and looked like a bit of -fragile china in the palatial room.</p> - -<p>“How sweet of you to come so soon,” -she said, with frank pleasure. “I did not expect<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span> -you for an hour yet. Mamma will be -down presently. She is quite too awfully -anxious to meet you.”</p> - -<p>The Duke resumed his seat and leaned -back this time, regarding Miss Creighton -through half-closed eyes. His expression was -much the same as when he had inventoried -the room.</p> - -<p>“I came to America to see you,” he -said.</p> - -<p>The colour flashed to her hair, but she -smiled gracefully. “How funny! Just as if -you had run over to pay me an afternoon call. -Did the trip bore you much?”</p> - -<p>“I am always bored at sea when I am not -ill. I am usually ill.”</p> - -<p>“Oh! Really? How horrid! I am never -ill. I always find the trip rather jolly. I go -over to shop, and that would keep me up if -nothing else did. Well, I think it was very -good indeed of you—awfully good—to brave<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span> -the horrors of the deep, or rather of your -state-room, just to call on me.”</p> - -<p>She had a babyish voice and a delightful -manner. The Duke smiled. He was really -rather glad to see her again. “You were -good enough to ask me to call if I ever came -over,” he said, “and it occurred to me that it -would be a jolly thing to do. I only had little -detached chats with you over there, and there -were always a lot of Johnnies hanging about. -I felt interested to see you in your own surroundings.”</p> - -<p>“Oh—perhaps you are going to write a -book? I have always felt dreadfully afraid -that you were clever. Well, don’t make the -mistake of thinking that we have only one -type over here, as they always do when they -come to write us up. There are just ten girls -in my particular set—we have sets within sets, -as you do, you know—and we are each one -of us quite different from all the others. We<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span> -are supposed to be the intellectual set, and -Alexandra Maitland and Augusta Forbes are -really frightfully clever. I don’t know why -they tolerate me—probably because I admire -them. Augusta is my dearest friend. Alex -pats me on the head and says that I am the -leaven that keeps them from being a sodden -lump of grey matter. I have addled my brains -trying to keep up with them.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t; you are much more charming as -you are.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, dear! I don’t know. Men always -seem to get tired of me,” she replied, with just -how much ingenuousness the Duke could not -determine. “Mrs. Burr says it is because I -talk a blue streak and say nothing. Hal is -quite too frightfully slangy. Augusta kisses -me and says I am an inconsequential darling. -She made me act in one of Howell’s comedies -once, and I did it badly on purpose, in the -hope of raising my reputation, but Augusta<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span> -said it was because I couldn’t act. Fletcher -Cuyler, who is the most impertinent man -in New York said—— Have you seen -Fletcher?”</p> - -<p>“He came out on the tug to meet me, and -left me at the door.”</p> - -<p>“I believe if Fletcher really has a deep -down affection for anyone, it is for you—I -mean for any man. He is devoted to all of us, -and he is the only man we chum with. But -we wouldn’t have him at the meeting to-day. -Do you know that I should have lent my valuable -presence to two important meetings this -afternoon?”</p> - -<p>“Really?” The Duke was beginning to -feel a trifle restless.</p> - -<p>“Yes, we are going in frightfully for Socialism, -you know—Socialism and the vote—and—oh, -dozens of other things. Alex said -we must, and so we did. It’s great fun. We -make speeches. At least, I don’t, but the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span> -others do. Should you like to go to one of -our meetings?”</p> - -<p>“I should not!” said the Duke emphatically.</p> - -<p>“Well, you must not make fun of us, for I -am simply bent on having all the girls adore -you, particularly Augusta. The other day we -had a lovely meeting. It was here. I have -the prettiest boudoir: Alex designed it. It -looks just like a rainbow. I lay on the couch -in a gown to match, and the girls all took off -their stiff street frocks and put on my wrappers, -and we smoked cigarettes and ate bon-bons, -and read Karl Marx. It was lovely! I -didn’t understand a word, but I <i>felt</i> intellectual—the -atmosphere, you know. When we -had finished a chapter and Alex had expounded -it, and quarrelled over it with Augusta, -we talked over all the men we knew, -and I am sure men would be lots better if they -knew what girls thought about them. Alex<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span> -says we must regenerate them, quicken their -souls, so to speak, and I suppose I may as -well begin on you, although you’re not an -American, and can’t vote—we’re for reforming -the United States, you know. What is the -state of your soul?” And again she gave her -fresh childlike laugh.</p> - -<p>“I haven’t any. Give me up. I am hopeless.” -He was arriving at the conclusion that -she was more amusing in detached chats, -but reflected that she was certainly likeable. -It was this last pertainment, added to the rumour -of her father’s vast wealth, that had -brought him across the water.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know that I have ever seen one -of the—what do they call them?—advanced -women? But I am told that they are not -Circean. That, indeed, seems to be their -hall-mark. A woman’s first duty is to be -attractive.”</p> - -<p>“That’s what Fletcher says. Augusta is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span> -my most intimate friend, my very dearest -friend, but I never saw a man look as if he -was thinking about falling in love with her. -How long shall you stay?” she added -quickly, perceiving that he was tiring of the -subject.</p> - -<p>“I?—oh—I don’t know. Until you tell -me that I bore you. I may take a run into -Central America with Fletcher.”</p> - -<p>“Into what? Why that’s days, and days, -and days from here, and must be a horrid -place to travel in.”</p> - -<p>“I thought Chicago was only twenty-four -hours from New York.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you funny, funny, deliciously funny -Englishman! Why Central America doesn’t -belong to the United States at all. It’s ’way -down between North and South America or -somewhere. I suppose you mean middle -America. We call Chicago and all that part -of the country West.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span></p> - -<p>“If it’s middle it’s central,” said the Duke, -imperturbably. “You cannot expect me to -command the vernacular of your enormous -country in a day.”</p> - -<p>He rose suddenly. A woman some twenty -years older than Mabel had entered. Her face -and air were excessively, almost aggressively -refined, her carriage complacent, a trifle insolent. -She was the faded prototype of her -daughter. The resemblance was close and -prophetic.</p> - -<p>“My dear Duke,” she said, shaking him -warmly by the hand, “I am so flattered that -you have come to us at once, and so glad to -have the opportunity to thank you for your -kindness to Mabel when she was in your dear -delightful country. Take that chair, it is so -much more comfortable.” She herself sat -upon an upright chair, and laid one hand -lightly over the other. Her repose of manner -was absolute. “The happiest days of my life<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span> -were spent in England, when I was first married—it -seems only day before yesterday—my -husband and I went over and jaunted about -England and Scotland and Wales in the most -old-fashioned manner possible. For six -months we rambled here and there, seeing -everything—one was not ashamed of being a -tourist in those days. We would not present -a letter, we wanted to have a real honeymoon: -we were so much in love. And to think that -Aire Castle is so near that terrible Strid. I remember -that we stood for an hour simply fascinated. -Mr. Creighton wanted to take the -stride, but I wouldn’t let him. He has never -been over with me since—he is so busy. I -can’t think how Mr. Forbes always manages -to go with his wife, unless it is true that he is -jealous of her—although in common justice I -must add that if she has ever given him cause -no one knows it. I suppose it is on general -principles, because she is such a beauty. Still<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span> -I must say that if I were a man and married -to a Southern woman I should want -to get rid of her occasionally: they <i>are</i> so -conceited and they do rattle on so about -nothing. Virginia Forbes talks rather less -than most Southern women; but I imagine -that is to enhance the value of her velvety -voice.”</p> - -<p>The Duke, who had made two futile efforts -to rise, now stood up resolutely.</p> - -<p>“I am very sorry——” he began.</p> - -<p>“Oh! <i>I</i> am so sorry you <i>will</i> rush away,” -exclaimed his hostess. “I have barely heard -you speak. You must come with us to the -opera to-night. Do. Will you come informally -to an early dinner, or will you join us in -the box with Fletcher?”</p> - -<p>“I will join you with Fletcher. And I -must go—I have an engagement with him at -the hotel—he is waiting for me. You are -very kind—thanks, awfully. So jolly to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span> -be so hospitably received in a strange country.”</p> - -<p>When he reached the side-walk, he drew -a long breath. “My God!” he thought, -“Is it a disease that waxes with age? -Perhaps they get wound up sometimes and -can’t stop.... And she is pretty now, -but it’s dreadful to have the inevitable -sprung on you in that way. What are the -real old women like, I wonder? They -must merely fade out like an old photograph. -I can’t imagine one of them a -substantial corpse. I shall feel as if I were -married to a dissolving view. She is -charming now, but—oh, well, that is not -the only thing to be taken into consideration.”</p> - -<p>The Creighton house was on Murray Hill. -He crossed over to Fifth Avenue and -walked down toward the Waldorf, absently -swinging his stick, regardless of many curious<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span> -glances. “I wonder,” he thought, -“I wonder if I ever dreamed of a honeymoon -with the one woman. If I did, -I have forgotten. What a bore it will be -now.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Augusta</span> returned home at six o’clock, -not flushed with triumph, for she was too -tired, but with an elated spirit. She had -stood on a platform in an East Side hall -surrounded by her friends, and to two -dozen bedraggled females had made the -first speech of her life. And it had been -a good speech; she did not need assurance -of that. She had stood as well as -Alexandra Maitland, but had used certain -little emphatic gestures (she was too independent -to imitate anyone); and she had, -with well-bred lack of patronage, assured -her humble sisters, for three quarters of an -hour, that they must sign the petition for -Woman Franchise, and make all the other<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span> -women on the East Side sign it: in order -that they might be able to put down the -liquor trust, reform their husbands, secure -good government, and be happy ever after. -She flattered herself that she had not used -a single long word—and she prided herself -upon her vocabulary—that she had spoken -with the simplicity and directness which -characterized great orators and writers. Altogether, -it was an experience to make -any girl scorn fatigue; and when she entered -her boudoir and found Mabel Creighton, -she gave her a dazzling smile of welcome, -and embraced her warmly. Mabel responded -with a nervous hug and shed a tear.</p> - -<p>“He’s here!” she whispered ecstatically.</p> - -<p>“Who?—Oh, your Duke. Did he propose -right off? Do tell me.” And she -seated herself close beside her friend, and -forgot that she was reforming the United -States.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span></p> - -<p>“No, but he told me that he had come -over on purpose to see me.”</p> - -<p>“That’s equal to a proposal,” said Augusta -decidedly. “Englishmen are very -cautious. They are much better brought up -than ours. Which is only another warning -that we must take ours in hand. It is -shocking the way they frivol. I’d rather -you married an American for this reason; -but if you love the Duke of Bosworth, I -have nothing to say. Besides, you’re the -vine-and-tendril sort; I don’t know that -you’d ever acquire any influence over a -man; so it doesn’t much matter. Now tell -me about the Duke, dearest; I am so glad -that he has come.”</p> - -<p>Mabel talked a steady stream for a half-hour, -then hurried home to dress for the -evening.</p> - -<p>Mr. Forbes was standing before the fire -in the drawing-room when his daughter<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span> -entered, apparelled for the opera and subsequent -ball. She wore a smart French -gown of pale blue satin, a turquoise comb -in her pale modishly dressed hair, and she -carried herself with the spring and grace of -her kind; but she was very pale, and there -were dark circles about her eyes.</p> - -<p>“You look worn out, my dear,” said her -father, solicitously. “What have you been -doing?”</p> - -<p>Miss Forbes sank into a chair. “I went -to two meetings, one at Hal’s and one in -the slums. I spoke for the first time, and it -has rather taken it out of me.”</p> - -<p>“Would the victory of your ‘cause’ compensate -for crow’s feet?”</p> - -<p>“Indeed it would. I really do not care. -I am so glad that I have no beauty to lose. -I might not take life so seriously if I had. -I am beginning to have a suspicion that -Mary Gallatin and several others have merely<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span> -taken up these great questions as a fad. -Here comes mamma, I am glad, for I am -hungry. I had no time for tea to-day.”</p> - -<p>A <i>portière</i> was lifted aside by a servant, -and Mrs. Forbes entered the room. But for -the majesty of her carriage she looked -younger than her daughter, so exquisitely -chiselled were her features, so fresh and -vivid her colouring. Virginia Forbes was -thirty-nine and looked less than thirty. -Her tall voluptuous figure had not outgrown -a line of its early womanhood, her -neck and arms were Greek. A Virginian -by birth, she inherited her high-bred beauty -from a line of ancestors that had been -fathered in America by one of Elizabeth’s -courtiers. Her eyes had the slight fullness -peculiar to the Southern woman; the colour, -like that of the hair, was a dark brown -warmed with a touch of red. Her curved, -scarlet mouth was not full, but the lips<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span> -were rarely without a pout, which lent its -aid to the imperious charm of her face. -There were those who averred that upon -the rare occasions when this lovely mouth -was off guard it showed a hint in its -modelling of self-will and cruelty. But few -had seen it off guard.</p> - -<p>She wore a tiara of diamonds, and on -her neck three rows of large stones depending -lightly from fine gold chains. Her -gown was of pale green velvet, with a -stomacher of diamonds. On her arm she -carried an opera cloak of emerald green -velvet lined with blue fox.</p> - -<p>Mr. Forbes’ cold brilliant eyes softened -and smiled as she came toward him, flirting -her lashes and lifting her chin. For -this man, whose eyes were steel during all -the hours of light, who controlled the destinies -of railroads and other stupendous -enterprises and was the back-bone of his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span> -political party, who had piled up millions -as a child piles up blocks, and who had -three times refused the nomination of his -party for the highest gift of the nation, -had worshipped his wife for twenty-two -years. He turned toward his home at -the close of each day with a pleasure -that never lost its edge, exulting in the -thought that ambition, love of admiration, -and the onerous duties of the social leader -could not tempt his wife to -neglect him for an hour. He lavished fortunes -upon her. She had an immense allowance -to squander without record, a -palace at Newport and another in the -North Carolina mountains, a yacht, and -jewels to the value of a million dollars. -In all the years of their married life he had -refused her but one dear desire—to live -abroad in the glitter of courts, and receive -the homage of princes. He had declined<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span> -foreign missions again and again. “The -very breath of life for me is in America,” -he had said with final decision. “And if -I wanted office I should prefer the large -responsibilities of the Presidency to the nagging -worries of an Ambassador’s life. The -absurdities of foreign etiquette irritate me -now when I can come and go as I like. -If they were my daily portion I should end -in a lunatic asylum. They are a lot of tin -gods, anyhow, my dear. As for you, it is -much more notable to shine as a particular -star in a country of beauties, than to walk -away from a lot of women who look as if -they had been run through the same mould, -and are only beauties by main strength.” -And on this point she was forced to submit. -She did it with the better grace because she -loved her husband with the depth and tenacity -of a strong and passionate nature. His -brain and will, the nobility and generosity<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span> -of his character, had never ceased to exercise -their enchantment, despite the men that -paid her increasing court. Moreover, although -the hard relentless pursuit of gold -had aged his hair and skin, Mr. Forbes -was a man of superb appearance. His head -and features had great distinction; his face, -when the hours of concentration were passed, -was full of magnetism and life, his eyes of -good-will and fire. His slender powerful -figure betrayed little more than half of his -fifty-one years. He was a splendid specimen -of the American of the higher civilisation: -with all the vitality and enthusiasm -of youth, the wide knowledge and intelligence -of more than his years, and a manner -that could be polished and cold, or -warm and spontaneous, at will.</p> - -<p>For her daughter, Mrs. Forbes cared less. -She had not the order of vanity which would -have dispensed with a walking advertisement<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span> -of her years, but she resented having borne an -ugly duckling, one, moreover, that had tiresome -fads. She had been her husband’s confidante -in all his gigantic schemes, financial -and political, and Augusta’s intellectual kinks -bored her.</p> - -<p>She crossed the room and gave her husband’s -necktie a little twist. Mr. Forbes sustained -the reputation of being the best-groomed -man in New York, but it pleased her -to think that she could improve him. Then -she fluttered her eyelashes again.</p> - -<p>“Do I look very beautiful?” she whispered.</p> - -<p>He bent his head and kissed her.</p> - -<p>“When you two get through spooning,” -remarked Miss Forbes in a tired voice, “suppose -we go in to dinner.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t flatter yourself that it is all for -you,” Mrs. Forbes said to her husband, “I am -to meet an English peer to-night.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span></p> - -<p>“Indeed,” replied Mr. Forbes, smiling, -“Have we another on the market? What is -his price? Does he only want a roof? or will -he take the whole castle, barring the name -and the outside walls?”</p> - -<p>“You are such an old cynic. This is the -Duke of Bosworth, a very charming man, I am -told. I don’t know whether he is poverty-stricken -or not. I believe he paid Mabel -Creighton a good deal of attention in the -autumn, when she was visiting in England.”</p> - -<p>“He wouldn’t get much with her: Creighton -is in a tight place. He may pull out, but -he has three children besides Mabel. However, -there are plenty of others to snap at this -titled fish, no doubt.”</p> - -<p>“I hope not,” said Augusta. “Dear Mabel -is very fond of him; I am sure of that. He -only arrived to-day, and is going with them -to the opera to-night. How are you to meet -him?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span></p> - -<p>“Fletcher Cuyler will bring him to my -box, of course. Are not all distinguished foreigners -brought to my shrine at once?”</p> - -<p>“True,” said Miss Forbes. “But <i>are</i> we -going in to dinner? I have never heard -Maurel in <i>Don Giovanni</i>, and I don’t want to -lose more than the first act.”</p> - -<p>“There is plenty of it. But let us go in to -dinner, by all means.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> two tiers of boxes at the Metropolitan -Opera House reserved for the beauty and -fashion of New York flashed with the plumage -of women and a thousand thousand gems. -Women of superb style, with little of artifice -but much of art, gowned so smartly that only -their intense vitality saved them from confusion -with the fashion-plate, carrying themselves -with a royal, albeit somewhat self-conscious -air, many of them crowned like -empresses, others starred like night, producing -the effect <i>en masse</i> of resplendent beauty, -and individually of deficiency in all upon -which the centuries have set their seal, hung, -two or three in a frame, against the curving -walls and red background of the great house:<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span> -suspended in air, these goddesses of a new -civilisation, as if with insolent challenge to all -that had come to stare. To the music they -paid no attention. They had come to decorate, -not to listen; without them there would -be no opera. The music lovers were stuffed -on high, where they seemed to cling to the -roof like flies. The people in the parquette -and orchestra chairs, in the dress-circle and -balconies, came to see the hundreds of millions -represented in the grand tier. Two rows of -<i>blasé</i> club faces studded the long omnibus -box. Behind the huge sleeves and voluminous -skirts that sheathed their proudest possessions, -were the men that had coined or inherited -the wealth which made this triumphant -exhibition possible.</p> - -<p>As the curtain went down on the second -act and the boxes emptied themselves of their -male kind that other male kind might enter -to do homage, two young men took their<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span> -stand in the back of a box near the stage and -scanned the house. One of them remarked -after a few moments:</p> - -<p>“I thought that all American women were -beautiful. So far, I see only one.”</p> - -<p>“These are the New York fashionettes, -my dear boy. Their pedigree is too short for -aristocratic outline. You will observe that the -pug is as yet unmitigated. Not that blood -always tells, by any means: some of your old -duchesses look like cooks. Our orchids travel -on their style, grooming, and health, and you -must admit that the general effect is stunning. -Who is your beauty?”</p> - -<p>“Directly in the middle of the house. -Gad! she’s a ripper.”</p> - -<p>“You are right. That is the prettiest -woman in New York. And her pedigree is -probably as good as yours.”</p> - -<p>“Who is she?”</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Edward R. Forbes, the wife of one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span> -of the wealthiest and most powerful men in -the United States.”</p> - -<p>“Really!”</p> - -<p>“That is her daughter beside her.”</p> - -<p>“Her what!”</p> - -<p>“I always enjoy making that shot. It -throws a flash-light on the pitiful lack of -originality in man every time. But it is nothing -for the petted wife of an American millionaire -to look thirty when she is forty. It’s the -millionaire who looks sixty when he is fifty. -I’m not including Forbes, by the way. That -tall man of fine physique that has just left the -box is he.”</p> - -<p>“Poor thing!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, don’t waste any pity on Forbes. -He’s the envy of half New York. She is devoted -to him, and with good reason: there are -few men that can touch him at any point. I -shall take you over presently. The first thing -a distinguished stranger, who has had the tip,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span> -does when he comes to New York is to pay -his court at that shrine. What a pity you are -booked. That girl will come in for forty millions.”</p> - -<p>The other set his face more stolidly.</p> - -<p>“Pounds?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no—dollars. But they’ll do.”</p> - -<p>“I have not spoken as yet, although I -don’t mind saying that that is what I came -over for.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose you are in pretty deep—too -deep to draw out?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know that I want to. I can be -frank with you, Fletcher. Is her father solid? -American fortunes are so deucedly ricketty. I -am perfectly willing to state brutally that I -wouldn’t—couldn’t—marry Venus unless I got -a half million (pounds) with her and something -of an income to boot.”</p> - -<p>“As far as I know Creighton stands pretty -well toward the top. You can never tell<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span> -though: American fortunes are so exaggerated. -You see, the women whose husbands -are worth five millions can make pretty much -the same splurge as the twenty or thirty million -ones. They know so well how to do it. -For the matter of that there’s one clever old -<i>parvenu</i> here who has never handled more -than a million and a half—as I happen to -know, for I’m her lawyer—and who entertains -with the best of them. Her house, clothes, -jewels, are gorgeous. A shrewd old head like -that can do a lot on an income of seventy -thousand dollars a year. But Forbes, I should -say, is worth his twenty millions—that’s -allowing for all embellishments—if he’s worth -a dollar, and Augusta is the only child. Unless -America goes bankrupt, she’ll come in for -two-thirds of that one of these days, and an -immense dot meanwhile.”</p> - -<p>At this moment Miss Creighton, who had -been talking with charming vivacity to a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span> -group of visitors, dismissed them with tactful -badinage, and beckoned to the two men -in the back of the box.</p> - -<p>“Sit down,” she commanded. “What -do you think, Fletcher? I stayed away -from two important meetings to-day in -order to receive the Duke. Was not that -genuine American hospitality?”</p> - -<p>She spoke lightly; but as her eyes sought -the Englishman’s, something seemed to flutter -behind her almost transparent face.</p> - -<p>“These fads! These fads!” exclaimed -the young man addressed as Fletcher. -“Have you resigned yourself to the New -Woman, Bertie? The New York variety -is innocuous. They just have a real good -time and the newspapers take them seriously -and write them up, which they -think is lovely.”</p> - -<p>“Nobody pays any attention to Fletcher -Cuyler,” said Miss Creighton with affected<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span> -disdain. “We will make you all stare -yet.”</p> - -<p>The Duke smiled absently. He was -looking toward the box in the middle of -the tier.</p> - -<p>“I think women should have whatever -diversion they can find or invent,” he said. -“Society does not do much for them.”</p> - -<p>The curtain rose.</p> - -<p>“Keep quiet,” ordered Cuyler. “I allow -no talking in a box which I honour with -my presence. That isn’t what <i>I</i> ruin myself -for.”</p> - -<p>He was a tail nervous blonde bald-headed -man of the Duke’s age, with an imp-like -expression and dazzling teeth. Despite the -fact that he was unwealthed, he was a -fixed star in New York society; he not -only knew more dukes and princes than -any other man in the United States, but -was intimate with them. He had smart<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span> -English relatives and was a graduate of -Oxford, where he had been the chosen -friend of the heir to the Dukedom of Bosworth. -His excessive liveliness, his adaptability -and versatility, his audacity, eccentricities, -cleverness, and his utter disregard of -rank, had made him immensely popular in -England. He was treated as something between -a curio and a spoilt child; and if -people guessed occasionally that his head -was peculiarly level, they but approved him -the more.</p> - -<p>When the act was done and the box -again invaded, Cuyler carried the Englishman -off to call on Mrs. Forbes. Her box -was already crowded, and Mr. Forbes stood -just outside the door. As the Duke was -introduced to him, he contracted his eyelids, -and a brief glance of contempt shot -from eyes that looked twenty years younger -than the fish-like orbs which involuntarily<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span> -twitched as they met that dart. But Mr. -Forbes was always courteous, and he spoke -pleasantly to the young man of his father, -whom he had known.</p> - -<p>Cuyler entered the box. “Get out,” he -said, “everyone of you. I’ve got a live -duke out there. He’s mortgaged for the -rest of the evening and time’s short.” He -drove the men out, then craned his long -neck round the half-open door.</p> - -<p>“Dukee, dukee,” he called, “come -hither.”</p> - -<p>The Duke, summoning what dignity he -could, entered, and was presented. After he -had paid a few moments’ court to Mrs. -Forbes, Cuyler deftly changed seats with -him and plunged into an animated dispute -with his hostess anent the vanishing charms -of <i>Don Giovanni</i>.</p> - -<p>The Duke leaned over Miss Forbes’ chair -with an air of languor, which was due to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span> -physical fatigue, contemplating her absently, -and not taking the trouble to more than -answer her remarks. Nevertheless, his prolonged -if indifferent stare disturbed the girl -who had known little susceptibility to men. -There was something in the cold regard of -his eye, the very weariness of his manner, -which had its charm for the type of woman -who is responsive to the magnetism of -inertia, whom a more vital force repels. -And his title, all that it represented, the -pages of military glory it rustled, appealed -to the mind of the American girl who had -felt the charm of English history. She was -not a snob; she had given no thought to -marrying a title; and if the man had repelled -her, she would have relegated him -to that far outer circle whence all were -banished who bored her or achieved her -disapproval; but a thin spell emanated -from this cold self-contained personality and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span> -stirred her languid pulse. Practical as she -was, she had a girl’s imagination, and she -saw in him all that he had not, haloed -with an ancient title; behind him a great -sweep of historical canvas. Then she remembered -her friend; and envied her with -the most violent emotion of her life.</p> - -<p>“Well, what do you think of her?” -asked Cuyler of the Duke, as they walked -down the lobby. “I don’t mean <i>la belle -dame sans merci</i>; there’s only one opinion -on that subject. But Augusta? do you -think you could stand her? If Forbes took -the notion he’d come down with five million -dollars without turning a hair.”</p> - -<p>“I could swallow her whole and without -a grimace,” said the Duke drily. “But I -am half, two-thirds committed. I have no -intention of making Miss Creighton ridiculous, -although I shall be obliged to tell her -father frankly that I cannot marry her unless<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span> -he comes down with half a million. It’s -a disgusting thing to do, but I have no -choice.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, don’t go back on Mabel, of course. -But I am sorry. However, <i>nous verrons</i>. -If Creighton doesn’t come to time, let me -know. I am pretty positive I can arrange -the other: I think I know my fair compatriot’s -weak spot. I suppose you go on -with the Creightons to the big affair at -the Schemmerhorn-Smiths to-night? Well, -give Augusta a quarter of an hour or so -of your flattering attentions. It will do no -harm, in any event. I feel like a conspirator, -but I’d like to see you on your feet. -Gad! I wish I had a title; I wouldn’t be -in debt as long as you have been.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> next day Cuyler took the Duke to -call on Mrs. Forbes in her house. It was -five o’clock and the lamps were lit. Augusta’s -particular set were there, talking -Socialism over their tea, and enlightening a -half-dozen young men and elderly club -<i>roués</i>, who listened with becoming gravity. -Mrs. Forbes sat somewhat apart by the tea-table -talking to three or four men on any -subject but Socialism. She wore a gown -of dark-red velvet with a collar of Venetian -lace and sat in a large high-backed -chair of ebony, inlaid with ivory. The seat -was also high, and she looked somewhat -like a queen on her throne, graciously receiving -the homage of her courtiers. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span> -drawing-room was twice as large as the -Creighton’s, the Duke noted as he entered. -It was hung with dark-green velvet embroidered -with a tree design in wood colour -an inch thick. Every shade of green blended -in the great apartment, and there was -no other colour but the wood relief and -the pink of the lamp-shades.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Forbes did not rise, but she held -out her hand to the stranger with so spontaneous -a warmth that he felt as if he -were receiving his first welcome in transatlantic -parts. She had not shaken hands -with him at the opera, and their brief conversation -had been over her shoulder; he -now found that her eyes and hand, her -womanly magnetism and almost regal manner -combined to effect the impression: -“New York, <i>c’est moi</i>. My hospitality to -the elect few who win my favour is sincere -and unbounded, the bitter envy of the cold<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span> -and superfluous stranger without its gates; -and, of all men, my dear Duke of Bosworth, -you are the most genuinely welcome.”</p> - -<p>He wondered a little how she did it, but -did not much care. It was a large beautiful -gracious presence, and he was content, -glad to bask in it. He forgot Augusta -and Mabel, and took a low chair before -her.</p> - -<p>“I won’t ask you how you like New -York,” she said, smiling again. She half -divined his thoughts, and saw that he was -clever despite an entire indifference to his -natural abilities; and the sympathy of her -nature conveyed what she thought.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I do—now,” he replied with unwonted -enthusiasm. “I must say that the -blind rush everybody seems to be in is a trifle -disconcerting at first—it makes an Englishman -feel, rather, as if his youngest child—the child<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span> -of his old age, as it were, was on a dead run, -and that he must rush after to see what it was -all about or be left behind like an old fogey. -Upon my word I feel fully ten years older than -I did when I landed.”</p> - -<p>She laughed so heartily that he felt a sudden -desire to say something really clever, and -wondered why he usually took so little trouble.</p> - -<p>“That is the very best statement of one of -our racial differences I have heard,” she said; -“I shall remember to tell it to my husband. -He will be delighted. I feel the rush myself -at times, for I was born in a far more languid -climate. But New York is an electrifying -place; it would fascinate you in time.”</p> - -<p>“It fascinates me already!” he said gallantly, -“and it is certainly reposeful here.”</p> - -<p>“It is always the same, particularly at five -o’clock,” she replied.</p> - -<p>“Does that mean that I can drop in sometimes -at this hour?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span></p> - -<p>“<i>Will</i> you?”</p> - -<p>“I am afraid I shall be tempted to come -every day.”</p> - -<p>“That would be our pleasure,” and again -she smiled. It was a smile that had warmed -older hearts than the weary young profligate’s. -“Augusta is almost invariably here -and I usually am. Occasionally I drive down -to bring my husband home.”</p> - -<p>The Duke understood her perfectly. Her -graceful pleasure in meeting him was not to -be misconstrued. As she turned to greet a -new comer he regarded her closely. If she -had not taken the trouble to convey her subtle -warning, he should have guessed that she -loved her husband. Then he fell to wondering -what sort of a man Forbes was to have -developed the abundant harvest of such a -woman’s nature. “She could easily have -been made something very different in the -wrong hands,” he thought, “and not in one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span> -respect only but in many. What a mess I -should have made of a nature like that! Little -Miss Creighton, with her meagre and neutral -make-up is about all I am equal to. This -woman might have lifted me up once; but -more likely I should have dragged her down. -She is all woman, the kind that is controlled -and moulded by the will of a man.”</p> - -<p>His eyes rested on her mouth. “She will -hurt Forbes some day, give him a pretty nasty -time; but it won’t be because she doesn’t love -him. And—she’ll make him forget—when -she gets ready. A man would forgive a -woman like that anything.”</p> - -<p>She turned suddenly and met his eyes. -“What are you thinking?” she demanded.</p> - -<p>“That Mr. Forbes must be a remarkable -man,” he answered quickly. He rose. “I -must go over and speak to Miss Forbes; but I -shall come back.”</p> - -<p>Mabel’s eyes were full of coquettish reproach.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span> -Augusta chaffed him for forgetting -their existence. Her manner was not her -mother’s, but it was high-bred, and equally -sincere. She presented him to the other girls, -and to Mrs. Burr, who lifted her lorgnette, and -regarded him with a prolonged and somewhat -discomforting stare. But it was difficult to -embarrass the Duke of Bosworth. He went -over and sat beside Mabel.</p> - -<p>“I think I met him once,” said Mrs. Burr -to Augusta, “but he is so very unindividual -that I cannot possibly remember.”</p> - -<p>“I think he is charming,” said Miss -Forbes. “I had quite a talk with him last -night.”</p> - -<p>“He doesn’t look stupid, but he’s not precisely -hypnotic.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, there’s <i>something</i> about him!” exclaimed -one of the other girls. “I feel sure -that he’s fascinating.”</p> - -<p>“He looks as though he knew so much of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span> -the world,” said another, with equal enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter with us?” demanded -one of the young men.</p> - -<p>“You haven’t a title,” said Mrs. Burr.</p> - -<p>“Hal, you are quite too horrid. I have -not thought of his title—not once. But Norry, -you <i>can’t</i> look like that, no matter how hard -you try.”</p> - -<p>“Oh yes I can; it’s not so hard as you -imagine; only it’s not my chronic effect. -When I am—ah—indiscreet enough to produce -it, I have the grace to keep out of -sight.”</p> - -<p>“That is not what I mean.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, he is an Englishman—with a title,” -said the young man, huffily. “Miss Maitland, -have you caught the fever?”</p> - -<p>“I have either had all, or have outgrown -the children’s diseases, and I class the title-fever -among them. I know that some get it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span> -late in life, but some people will catch anything. -Our old butler has just had the -mumps.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a jolly way of looking at it.”</p> - -<p>“Oh you men are not altogether exempt,” -said Mrs. Burr. “But the funniest case is Ellis -Davis. He’s just come back from London -with a wild Cockney accent, calls himself -‘Daivis,’ and says ‘todai’ and the Princess of -‘Wailes,’ and ‘paiper.’ Probably he also says -‘caike’ and ‘laidy.’ I can’t think where he -got it, for he must have had <i>some</i> letters, and -you may bet your prospects he presented -them.”</p> - -<p>“Possibly he saw more of the hotel servants -and his barber than he did of the others,” -suggested Miss Maitland.</p> - -<p>“Or his ear may be defective, or his memory -bad, and he got mixed,” replied Mrs. Burr. -“We’ll give him the benefit of the doubt; but -I can’t think why the most original people on<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span> -earth want to imitate anyone. And yet they -say we hate the English. Great heaven! -Why, we even drink the nasty concoction -called English breakfast tea, a brand the English -villagers would not give tuppence a pound -for, simply because it has the magic word -tacked on to it.”</p> - -<p>“We don’t hate the English,” said Augusta. -“What nonsense. The Irish do, and -the politicians toady to the Irish and control -certain of the newspapers. That is all there is -in it; but they make the most noise.”</p> - -<p>“And <i>we</i> grovel,” said Mrs. Burr. “It is -a pity we can’t strike a happy medium.”</p> - -<p>“I think the greater part of the nation is -indifferent,” said Miss Maitland, “or at all -events recognises the bond of blood and gratitude.”</p> - -<p>The Duke was making his peace with -Mabel.</p> - -<p>“I was afraid I bored you this morning,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span> -he said, “it is good of you not to tell me that -you don’t want to talk to me again for a -week.”</p> - -<p>“You only stayed an hour. Did it seem -so long?”</p> - -<p>“I never paid a call of twenty minutes before,” -he said unblushingly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, how sweet of you!”</p> - -<p>“Not at all. Can I walk home with you? -Is that proper?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, there will be a lot of us together; -and they will all want to talk to you.”</p> - -<p>“My valuable conversation shall be devoted -to you alone.” He hesitated a moment. -“Shall you be at home this evening?”</p> - -<p>She looked down, tucking the end of her -glove under her cuff. “Yes, I rarely go out -two nights in succession.”</p> - -<p>“May I call again?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>She looked up and met his eyes. “It has<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span> -to be done,” thought the Englishman, “there’s -no getting out of it now, and I may as well -take the plunge and get over it. And she -certainly is likeable.”</p> - -<p>“They are going now,” said Mabel.</p> - -<p>He went over to Mrs. Forbes to make his -adieux.</p> - -<p>“I haven’t given you any tea,” she said. -“It was stupid of me to forget it. You must -come back to-morrow and have a cup.”</p> - -<p>“I shall come—for the tea,” he said.</p> - -<p>“And you must dine with us? Some day -next week—Thursday?”</p> - -<p>“Thanks, awfully; I’ll come on any pretence.”</p> - -<p>“You must—Fletcher, take the Duke into -the dining-room. It is so cold outside.”</p> - -<p>And to this invitation the Duke responded -with no less grace, then walked home with -Mabel and left her at her door, happy and -elated.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Forbes</span> stood in his office, his eyes -rivetted on a narrow belt of telegraph ticking -which slipped loosely through his hands, yard -after yard, from a machine on the table. As -it fell to the floor and coiled and piled about -him, until the upper part of his body alone -was visible, it seemed to typify the rising -waters of Wall Street. Outside, the city was -white and radiant, under snow and electric -light. In the comfortable office the curtains -were drawn, a gas log flamed in the grate, and -the electric loops were hot.</p> - -<p>Mr. Forbes had stood motionless for an -hour. His hat was on the back of his head. -His brow was corrugated. His lips were -pressed together, his eyes like flint. The secretary<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span> -and clerk had addressed him twice, but -had been given no heed. The hieroglyphics -on that strip of white paper sliding so rapidly -through his fingers had his brain in their grip. -For the moment he was a financial machine, -nothing more.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the ticking was softly brushed -from his hands, the coils about him kicked -apart by a little foot, and he looked down -into the face of his wife. She was enveloped -in sables; her cheeks were brilliant with the -pink of health and cold. Mr. Forbes’ brow -relaxed; he drew a deep sigh and removed -his hat.</p> - -<p>“Well! I am glad I came for you,” she -exclaimed. “I believe you would have stood -there all night. You looked like a statue. Is -anything wrong?”</p> - -<p>“I have merely stood here and watched a -half million drift through my fingers,” he said. -“Northern Consolidated is dropping like a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span> -parachute that won’t open. But let us -go home. I am very glad you came -down.”</p> - -<p>When they were in the brougham she -slipped her hand into his under cover of the -rug. “Are you worried?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“No; I don’t know that I am. I can hold -on, and when this panic is over the stock will -undoubtedly go up again. I have only a -million in it. But I am sorry for Creighton. -About two-thirds of all he’s got are in this -railroad, and I’m afraid he won’t be able to -hold on. But let us drop the subject. The -thing has got to rest until to-morrow morning, -and I may as well rest, too. Besides, -nothing weighs very heavily when I am at -home. Are we booked for anything to-night?”</p> - -<p>“There is Mary Gallatin’s <i>musicale</i>. She -has Melba and Maurel. And there is the big -dance at the Latimer Burr’s. But if you are<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span> -tired I don’t care a rap about either. Augusta -can go with Harriet.”</p> - -<p>“Do stay home; that’s a good girl. I am -tired; and what is worse, a lot of men will get -me into the smoking-room and talk ‘slump.’ -If I could spend the evening lying on the divan -in your boudoir, while you read or played -to me, I should feel that life was quite all that -it should be.”</p> - -<p>“Well, you shall. We have so few good -times together in winter.”</p> - -<p>He pressed her hand gratefully. “Tell -me,” he said after a moment, “do you think -this Socialism mooning of Augusta’s means -anything?”</p> - -<p>“No,” she said contemptuously. “I hope -that has not been worrying you. Girls must -have their fads. Last year it was pink parrots; -this year it is Socialism; next year it will -be weddings. By the way, what do you -think of the Duke?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span></p> - -<p>“I can’t say I’ve thought about him at -all.”</p> - -<p>“He is really quite charming.”</p> - -<p>“Is he? His title is, I suppose you mean. -Have you seen him since?”</p> - -<p>“Since when? Oh, the night of <i>Don -Giovanni</i>. I forgot that you had not been -home to tea this week. He has dropped in -with Fletcher several times.”</p> - -<p>“Ah! Well, I hope he improves on -acquaintance. What does Augusta think of -this magnificent specimen of English manhood?”</p> - -<p>“I think she rather likes him. She has -seen much more of him than I have, and says -that she finds him extremely interesting.”</p> - -<p>“<i>Good</i> God!”</p> - -<p>“But he must have something to him, Ned -dear, for Augusta is very <i>difficile</i>. I never -heard her say that a man was interesting -before.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span></p> - -<p>“And she has been surrounded by healthy -well-grown self-respecting Americans all her -life. The infatuation for titles is a germ disease -with Americans, more particularly with -New Yorkers. The moment the microbe -strikes the blood, inflammation ensues, and -the women that get it don’t care whether the -immediate cause is a man or a remnant. -Is his engagement to Mabel Creighton announced?”</p> - -<p>“No; she told Augusta that he had -spoken to her but not to her father—that Mr. -Creighton was in such a bad humour about -something she thought it best to wait a while. -I suppose it is this Northern Consolidated -business.”</p> - -<p>“It certainly is. And if the Dukelet is impecunious, -I am afraid Mabel won’t get him, -for there will be nothing to buy him with. -Don’t speak of this, however. Creighton may -pull through: the stock may take a sudden<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span> -jump, or he may have resources of which I -know nothing. I should be the last to hint -that he was in a hole. Don’t talk any more -here; it strains the voice so.”</p> - -<p>They were jolting over the rough stones -of Fifth Avenue, where speech rasped and -wounded the throat. The long picturesque -street of varied architecture throbbed with -the life of a winter’s afternoon. The swarm -of carriages on the white highway looked like -huge black beetles with yellow eyes, multiplying -without end. The sidewalks were -crowded with opposing tides; girls of the -orchid world, brightly dressed, taking their -brisk constitutional; young men, smartly -groomed, promenading with the ponderous -tread of fashion; business men, rushing for -the hotels where they could hear the late gossip -of Wall Street; the rockets of the opera -company, splendidly arrayed, and carrying -themselves with a haughty swing which challenged<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span> -the passing eye; and the contingent -that had come to stare. But snow-clouds had -brought an early dusk, and all were moving -homeward. By the time the Forbes reached -their house in the upper part of the Avenue -the sidewalks were almost deserted, and snow -stars were whirling.</p> - -<p>The halls and dining-room of the Forbes -mansion were hung with tapestries; all the -rooms, though home-like, were stately and -imposing, subdued in colour and rich in effect. -But if the house had been designed in the -main as a proper setting for a very great lady, -one boudoir and bedroom were the more personal -encompassment of a beautiful and luxurious -woman. The walls and windows and -doors of the boudoir were hung with raw silk, -opal hued. The furniture was covered with -the same material. On the floor was a white -velvet carpet, touched here and there with -pale colour. The opal effect was enhanced<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span> -by the lamps and ornaments, which cunningly -simulated the gem. In one corner was a -small piano, enamelled white and opalized by -the impressionist’s brush.</p> - -<p>The pink satin on the walls of the bedroom -gleamed through the delicate mist of lace. A -shower of lace half-concealed the low upholstered -bed. The deep carpet was pink, the -dressing-table a huge pink and white butterfly, -with furnishings of pink coral inlaid with -gold. A small alcove was walled with a -looking-glass. Every four years, when Mr. -Forbes was away at the National Convention, -his wife refurnished these rooms. She was a -woman of abounding variety and knew its -potence.</p> - -<p>Mr. Forbes passed the evening on the divan -in the boudoir, while his wife, attired in -a <i>negligée</i> of corn-coloured silk, her warm, -heavy hair unbound, played Chopin with soft, -smothered touch for an hour, then read to him<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span> -the latest novel. It was one of many evenings, -and when he told her that he was the -happiest man alive, she remarked to herself: -“It would be the same. I love him devotedly. -Nevertheless, during these next few -weeks he shall not be allowed to forget just -how happy I do make him.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher Cuyler</span> was banging with all -his might on the upright piano in one corner -of the parlour of his handsome bachelor -apartment. The door was thrown open -and the servant announced in a solemn -voice:</p> - -<p>“His Grace, the Duke of Bosworth, sir.”</p> - -<p>A bald crown and a broad grin appeared -for a moment above the top of the piano.</p> - -<p>“Sit down. Make yourself easy while I -finish this. It’s a bravura I’m composing.” -And he returned to the keys.</p> - -<p>“I wish you’d stop that infernal racket,” -said the Duke peevishly. “It’s enough to -tear the nerves out of a man’s body. Besides, -I want to talk to you.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span></p> - -<p>But Cuyler played out his bravura to the -thundering end; then came leaping down -the room, swinging his long legs in the -air as if they were strung on wires.</p> - -<p>The Duke was staring into the fire, huddled -together. He looked sullen and miserable.</p> - -<p>“Hallo!” cried his host. “What’s up? -Anything wrong?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing particular. I’ve made an infernal -mess of things, that’s all. I hear on -good authority that Creighton has never -been worth more than a million or so at -any time, and is losing money; and, without -conceit, I believe I could have had Miss -Forbes.”</p> - -<p>“Conceit? You’d be a geranium-coloured -donkey if you had the remotest -doubt of the fact. She’s fairly lunged at -you. I’ve known Augusta Forbes since she -was in long clothes—she was called ‘Honey’<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span> -until she was ten, if you can believe it; but -at that age she insisted upon Augusta or -nothing. Well, where was I?—I never -knew her to come off her perch before. -She always went in more or less for the -intellectual, and of late has been addling -her poor little brain with the problems of -the day. Well, the end is not yet. Have -you spoken to Mr. Creighton?”</p> - -<p>“No; I barely have the honour of his -acquaintance. Upon the rare occasions when -he graces his own table he’s as solemn as a -mummy. I’m willing to admit that I have -not yet summoned up courage to ask him -for an interview. He’s polite enough, but -he certainly is not encouraging.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, all the big men are grumpy just -now. The richer they are the more they -have to lose. Well, whichever way it -works out, you have my best wishes. I’d -like to see Aire Castle restored.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span></p> - -<p>“I believe in my heart that’s all I’m in -this dirty business for. I don’t enjoy the -sensation of the fortune-hunter. If I have -any strong interest left in life beyond seeing -the old place as it should be I am not -conscious of it.”</p> - -<p>“Come, come, Bertie, brace up, for God’s -sake. Have a brandy and soda. You’ll be -blowing your brains out the first thing I -know. Can’t you get up a little sentiment -for Mabel Creighton? She’s a dear little -thing.”</p> - -<p>“I loved one woman once, and after she -had ruined me, she left me for another man.” -He gave a short laugh. “She didn’t have -the decency to offer to support me, although -she was making a good £60 a -week. I don’t appear to be as fortunate -as some of my brothers. Oh, we are a -lovely lot.” He drank the brandy and soda, -and resumed: “I have no love left in me<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span> -for any woman. Mabel Creighton is a girl -to be tolerated, that is all; and more so -than Miss Forbes. Nevertheless, I wish I -had taken things more slowly and met -the latter before I was committed. You -may as well be killed for a sheep as a -lamb, and I am afraid I am not going to -get enough with Miss Creighton to make it -worth while. If he offered me two hundred -thousand pounds, I don’t believe I’d -have the assurance to refuse.”</p> - -<p>The servant entered and thrust out a -granitic arm, at the end of which was a -wedgewood tray supporting a note.</p> - -<p>“From Mrs. Forbes,” said Cuyler. He -read the note. “She wants to see me at -once,” he added. “I wonder what’s up. -Well, I must leave you. Go or stay, just as -you like. And good luck to you.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Englishman sat tapping the top of -his shoe with his stick for some moments -after Cuyler had left, then rose abruptly, -left the building, and hailing a hansom, -drove down town to Mr. Creighton’s office -in the Equitable Building. The elevator -shot him up to the fifth floor, and after -losing his way in the vast corridors several -times, he was finally steered to his -quarry.</p> - -<p>A boy who sat by a table in the private -hall-way reading the sporting extra of an -evening newspaper, took in his card. Mr. -Creighton saw him at once. The room -into which the Duke was shown was -large, simply furnished, and flooded with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span> -light. The walls seemed to be all windows. -The roar of Broadway came faintly -up. A telegraph machine in the corner -ticked intermittently, and slipped forth its -coils of clean white ticking, so flimsy and -so portentous. From an inner office came -the sound of a type-writer.</p> - -<p>Mr. Creighton rose and shook hands with -his visitor, then closed the door leading into -the next room and resumed his seat by a -big desk covered with correspondence. He -had a smooth-shaven determined face that -had once been very good-looking, but there -were bags under the anxious eyes, and his -cheeks were haggard and lined.</p> - -<p>“He is a man of few words—probably -because his wife is a woman of so many,” -thought the Duke. “I suppose I shall -have to begin.”</p> - -<p>He was not a man of many words himself.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</span></p> - -<p>“I have come down here,” he said, “because -it seems impossible to find you at -your house, and it is necessary that I -should speak to you on a matter that concerns -us both. I came to America to ask -your daughter to marry me.”</p> - -<p>“Have you done so?”</p> - -<p>“I have.”</p> - -<p>“Has she accepted you?”</p> - -<p>“Of course she wishes to refer the matter -to you.”</p> - -<p>“She wishes to marry you?”</p> - -<p>“I think she does.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Creighton sighed heavily. He -wheeled about and looked through the -window.</p> - -<p>“I wish she could,” he said,—“if she -loves you. I don’t know you. I haven’t -had time to think about you. I should -prefer that she married an American, myself, -but I should never have crossed her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</span> -so long as she chose a gentleman and a -man of honour. I know nothing of your -record. Were the marriage possible, I -should enquire into it. But I am afraid -that it is not. I am well aware—pardon -my abruptness—that no Englishman -of your rank comes to America for a wife -if his income is sufficient to enable him -to marry in his own country.” He paused -a moment. Then he resumed. The effort -was apparent. “I must ask your confidence -for a time—but it is necessary to -tell you that I am seriously involved; in -short, if things don’t mend, and quickly, -I shall go to pieces.”</p> - -<p>The Duke was sitting forward, staring at -the carpet, his chin pressed hard upon the -head of his stick. “I am sorry,” he said, -“very sorry.”</p> - -<p>“So am I. Mabel has two hundred thousand -dollars of her own. I have as much<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span> -more, something over, in land that is as yet -unmortgaged; but that is not the amount you -came for.”</p> - -<p>The Duke of Bosworth was traversing the -most uncomfortable moments of his life. He -opened his mouth twice to speak before he -could frame a reply that should not insult his -host and show himself the exponent of a type -for which he suddenly experienced a profound -disgust.</p> - -<p>“Aire Castle,” he said finally, “is half a -ruin. All the land I have inherited which is -not entailed is mortgaged to the hilt. I may -add that I also inherited about half of the -mortgages. My income is a pittance. It -would cost two hundred thousand pounds to -repair the castle—and until it is repaired, I -have no home to offer a wife. In common -justice to a woman, I must look out that she -brings money with her. That is my position. -It is a nasty one. It is good of you not to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span> -call me a fortune-hunter and order me -out.”</p> - -<p>“Well, well, at least you have not intimated -that you are conferring an inestimable -honour in asking me to regild your -coronet. I appreciate your position, it is -ugly. So is mine. Thank you for being -frank.”</p> - -<p>The Englishman rose. He held out his -hand. “I hope you’ll come out all right,” -he said, with a sudden and rare burst of -warmth. “I do indeed. Good luck to -you.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Creighton shook his hand heartily. -“Thank you. I won’t. But I’m glad you feel -that way.”</p> - -<p>He went with his guest to the outer door. -The boy had disappeared. Mr. Creighton -opened the door. The Duke was about to -pass out. He turned back, hesitated a moment. -“I shall go up and see your daughter<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span> -at once,” he said. “Have I your permission -to tell her what—what—you have told -me?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Mr. Creighton. “She must -know sooner or later.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Duke did not call a hansom when he -reached the street. The interview to come -was several times more trying to face than the -last had been; he preferred to walk the miles -between the Equitable Building and Murray -Hill.</p> - -<p>He reached the house in an hour. Miss -Creighton was in the library reading a novel -by the fire, and looked up brightly as he -entered.</p> - -<p>“You are a very bad man,” she said, “I -have waited in for you all day, and it is now -half-past four. I am reading Kenilworth. -The love scenes are too funny for words. -Amy hangs upon Leicester’s neck and exclaims -‘My noble earl!’ Fancy if I called you -‘My noble duke.’ How perfectly funny!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span></p> - -<p>The Duke took his stand on the hearth-rug—man’s -immemorial citadel of defence—and -tapped his chin with his hat, regarding Mabel -stolidly with his fishy pale-blue gaze. He was -cross and uncomfortable and hated himself, -but his face expressed nothing.</p> - -<p>“I have seen your father,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Oh—have you? What—what did he -say?”</p> - -<p>“When I asked you to marry me I explained -how I was situated.”</p> - -<p>“I know—won’t papa?—He’s very generous.”</p> - -<p>“He can’t. He is very seriously embarrassed.”</p> - -<p>The girl’s breath shortened painfully. She -turned very white. Unconsciously she -twisted her hands together.</p> - -<p>“Then we cannot marry?”</p> - -<p>“How can we? Do you want to spend -your life hounded by lawyers, money-lenders,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span> -and financial syndicates, and unable to keep -up your position? You would die of misery, -poor child. I am not a man to make a woman -happy on three hundred thousand pounds a -year. Poor! It would be hell.”</p> - -<p>She did not look up, but sat twirling her -rings.</p> - -<p>“You know best,” she said, “I don’t -know the conditions of life in England. If -you say that we should be miserable, you -must know. I suppose you did not love me -very much.”</p> - -<p>“Not much, Mabel. I have only the skeleton -of a heart in me. I wonder it does duty -at all. You are well rid of me.”</p> - -<p>“You certainly did not make any very violent -protestations. I cannot accuse you of -hypocrisy.”</p> - -<p>“One thing—I was not half good enough -for you. As far as I can remember this is the -first time I have ever humbled myself. You<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span> -are a jolly little thing and deserve better -luck.”</p> - -<p>She made no reply.</p> - -<p>“I shall cross almost immediately—shall -give it out that you have refused me.”</p> - -<p>“You need not. I have told no one but -Augusta. People will think that we are -merely good friends. We will treat each -other in a frank off-hand manner when we -meet out.”</p> - -<p>“You are a game little thing! You’d -make a good wife, a good fellow to chum -with. I wish it could have come round our -way.”</p> - -<p>He was quick of instinct, and divined that -she wanted to be alone.</p> - -<p>“<i>Au revoir</i>,” he said. “We meet to-night -at dinner, somewhere, don’t we?”</p> - -<p>“At the Burr’s.” She rose and held out -her hand. She was very pale, but quite composed, -and her flower-like face had the dignity<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span> -which self-respect so swiftly conceives -and delivers. He had never been so near to -loving her. She had bored him a good deal -during the past weeks, but he suddenly saw -possibilities in her. They were not great, but -they would have meant something to him. -He wanted to kiss her, but raised her hand to -his lips instead, and went out.</p> - -<p>Mabel waited until she heard the front -door close, then ran up to her room and -locked herself in.</p> - -<p>“I mustn’t cry,” was her only thought for -the moment.</p> - -<p>“I mustn’t—mustn’t! My eyes are always -swollen for four hours and my nose gets such -a funny pink. I remember Augusta once -quoted some poetry about it. I forget it.”</p> - -<p>She looked at the divan. It exerted a -powerful magnetism. She saw herself lying -face downward, sobbing. She caught hold of -a chair to hold herself back. “I can’t!” she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span> -thought. “I can’t! I must brace up for that -dinner. The girls must never know. Oh! I -wish I were dead! I wish I were dead!”</p> - -<p>“I wish I were dead!” She said it aloud -several times, thinking it might lighten the -weight in her breast. But it did not. She -looked at the clock and shuddered. “It is -only five. What am I to do until Lena -comes to dress me? She won’t come until -half-past six. I can’t go to mamma; she -would drive me distracted. Oh! I think I -am going mad—but I <i>won’t</i> make a fool of -myself.”</p> - -<p>She walked up and down the room, -clenching her hands until the nails bit the soft -palms. “I read somewhere,” she continued -aloud, “that the clever people suffered most, -that their nerves are more developed or something. -I wonder what that must be like. -Poor things! I am not clever, and I feel as if -I’d dig my grave with my own fingers if I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span> -could get into it. Oh! Am I going to cry? -I won’t. I’ll think about something that will -make me angry. Augusta. She’ll get him -now. She’s wanted him from the first. I’ve -seen it. She was honourable enough not to -regularly try to cut me out, but there’s nothing -in the way now. And she will. I know -she will. I hate her. I hate her. Oh, God! -<i>What</i> shall I do?”</p> - -<p>She heard the front door open; a moment -later her father ascend the stair and enter -his room. She ran across the hall, opened -his door without ceremony and caught him -about the neck, but still without tears.</p> - -<p>He set his lips and held her close. Then -he kissed and fondled her as he had not -done for years. “Poor little girl,” he said. -“I am a terrible failure. God knows I -should have been glad to have bought your -happiness for you. As it is, I am afraid -I have ruined it.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span></p> - -<p>She noticed for the first time how worn -and old he looked. Her development had -been rapid during the last hour. She passed -on to a new phase. “Poor papa,” she -said, putting her hands about his face. “It -must be awful for you, and you have -never told us. Listen. <i>He</i> said I would -make a plucky wife, a good fellow. I’ll -take care of you and brace you up. I’ll -be everything to you, papa; indeed I will. -Papa, you are not crying! Don’t! I have -to go out to dinner to-night! Listen. I -don’t care much. Indeed I don’t. I’m sure -I often wondered why he attracted me so -much when I thought him over. Alex says -that if he were an American she wouldn’t -take the trouble to reform him—that he -isn’t worth it. And Hal says he looks -like a dough pudding, half baked. It’s -dreadful that we can’t control our feelings -better—Papa, give me every spare moment<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span> -you can, won’t you? I can’t stand the -thought of the girls.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said, “every minute; and as -soon as I can we’ll go off somewhere together. -It would be a great holiday for -me. It is terrible for me to see you suffer, -but I am selfish enough to be glad that I -shall not lose you. Stay with me awhile. -This will pass. You can’t believe that now, -but it will; and the next time you love, -the man will be more worthy of you. I -don’t want to hurt you, my darling, but -for the life of me, I can’t think what you -see in him.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">That</span> evening, shortly after Miss Forbes -had been dressed for Mrs. Burr’s dinner, -her mother entered and dismissed the -maid.</p> - -<p>“What is it, mamma?” Augusta demanded -in some surprise. “How odd you -look. Not as pretty as usual.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Forbes’ lips had withdrawn from -their pout; her whole face had lost its -sensuousness and seemed to have settled -into rigid lines. She went over to the fire -and lifted one foot to the fender, then -turned and looked at her daughter.</p> - -<p>“Do you wish to marry the Duke of -Bosworth?” she asked abruptly.</p> - -<p>A wave of red rose slowly to Augusta’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</span> -hair. Her lips parted. “What do you -mean?” she enquired after a moment. Her -voice was a little thick. “He is engaged to -Mabel.”</p> - -<p>“He cannot marry Mabel. Mr. Creighton -is on the verge of ruin.”</p> - -<p>Miss Forbes gasped. “Oh, how dreadful!” -she exclaimed, but something seemed -to suffuse her brain with light.</p> - -<p>“You can marry him if you wish.”</p> - -<p>“But Mabel is my most intimate friend. -It would be like outbidding her. She has -the two hundred thousand dollars that her -grandmother left her, and her father could -surely give her as much more.”</p> - -<p>“What would four hundred thousand -dollars be to a ruined Duke, up to his -ears in debt? He wants millions.”</p> - -<p>“But papa does not like him.”</p> - -<p>“Leave your father to me, and be guided -entirely by me in this matter. I have a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span> -plan mapped out if he will not give his -consent at once. Do you wish to marry -this man?”</p> - -<p>Miss Forbes drew a hard breath. “I -want to marry him more than anything in -the world,” she said.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">About</span> the same time, as the Duke of -Bosworth was dressing for dinner in his -rooms at The Waldorf, he received the -following note:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Duky, Duky, Daddledums!</span>—I have -great news for you. Rush your engagements, -and come here between twelve and -one to-night.</p> - -<p class="right no-indent">F. C.”</p></div> - -<p>As the young Englishman entered Cuyler’s -rooms a little after midnight, he received -such warmth of greeting from a powerful -hand concealed behind the <i>portière</i> that his -backbone doubled.</p> - -<p>“For God’s sake, Fletcher,” he said<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span> -crossly, “remember that I am not a Hercules. -What do you want of me?”</p> - -<p>“Sit down. Sit down. I’ll put you in -a good humour if I have to break a bank. -I’ve pledged it to my peace of mind. -Well, first—Creighton has practically gone -to smash.”</p> - -<p>“I know it. He told me so this afternoon. -Poor man, I felt sorry for him; and -I think he did for me, although his respect -may have been something less than his -pity. I know I felt uncommonly cheap, and -if he had kicked me out I doubt if I should -have resented it. He said that what with -his daughter’s fortune and some land investments, -he might scrape together a hundred -thousand pounds. I told him it -wouldn’t pay my debts. Then I had an -interview with her. Don’t ask me to repeat -it. Good God, what have we come -to? Drop the subject.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span></p> - -<p>“I haven’t begun yet. My conscience -wouldn’t rest, however, unless I paused to -remark that I am deuced sorry for the -Creightons. They are the best sort, and I -hate to see them go under. Well, to proceed. -You can have Miss Forbes.”</p> - -<p>The nobleman’s dull eyes opened. -“What do you mean?”</p> - -<p>“I had an interview of a purely diplomatic -nature with <i>la belle mère</i> after I left -you. She is willing. Miss Forbes is willing. -Nay, willing is not the word. I -named your price—the modest sum of -$5,000,000. She said you should have it.”</p> - -<p>“But Mr. Forbes despises me. By -Heaven, I have more respect for that man -than for anybody I have met in America. -Every time I meet those steel eyes of his -I seem to read: ‘You poor, miserable, little -wretch of a fortune-hunter! Go home -and blow out your brains, but don’t disgrace<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span> -your name by bartering it for our -screaming eagles.’ He’ll never consent.”</p> - -<p>“My boy, you need a B. and S. Do -brace up.” Fletcher wagged his head pathetically. -“You’ll have me crying in a -minute. I’ve been on the verge of tears -for the last three weeks. Now let me tell -you that you are all right. There may be -a tussle, but Forbes is bound to cave in -the end. He is infatuated with his wife -and she knows her power. She is as set -on this match as you could be. She’s had -the bee in her bonnet for a good many -years, to cut as great a dash in London as -she does in New York. Of course she’s -in it in a way when she’s over there for -a month or two during the season, but -she wants a long sight more than that. -Her ancestry does her no good because the -English trunk of the family died out two -hundred years ago. As your mother-in-law<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</span> -she’d be out of sight. A woman with her -beauty and brain and style and charm -could bring any society in the world to -her feet, and keep it there once she had -those feet planted beyond the door-mat. -Now she is patronised pleasantly as one of -many pretty American women who flit -back and forth. You’ve got a powerful -ally, and one that’s bound to win. Now -pull up that long face or I’ll hold you -under the cold water spout!”</p> - -<p>“I believe you have put new life into -me,” said his Grace, the Duke of Bosworth.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Augusta</span> was moving restlessly about her -boudoir. Her mind was uneasy and a trifle -harrowed. For the first time in her life she -was not thoroughly satisfied with herself. -Once she sat down and opened “Progress -and Poverty”; but George had ceased to -charm, and she resumed her restless marching. -Her boudoir was a scarlet confusion of -silk and crêpe, and conducive to cheerfulness. -Although it extinguished her drab -colouring, Augusta usually felt her best in -its glow and warmth; but to-day she felt her -worst.</p> - -<p>Suddenly she paused. There was a sound -of rapid ascent of stair and familiar voices. -She opened her door, and a moment later Mrs. -Burr and Miss Maitland entered. Both looked<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span> -unusually grave, and slightly pugnacious. -Augusta experienced a disagreeable sensation -in her knees.</p> - -<p>“Has anything happened?” she asked, -after she had greeted them and they were -seated.</p> - -<p>“Augusta!” said Miss Maitland sternly, -“we are perhaps meddling in what is none of -our affair; nevertheless, we have made up our -minds to speak.”</p> - -<p>“Well?”</p> - -<p>“Are you trying to get the Duke of Bosworth -away from Mabel Creighton?”</p> - -<p>“I am not.”</p> - -<p>“It looks like it.”</p> - -<p>“Does it?”</p> - -<p>“You are keeping something back, Augusta,” -said Mrs. Burr. “Out with it.”</p> - -<p>Miss Forbes recovered herself. “I am going -to marry the Duke of Bosworth,” she said -distinctly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span></p> - -<p>“Augusta Forbes!”</p> - -<p>“Yes; and I have not cut out Mabel -Creighton. I am perfectly willing to justify -myself to you, as we have always kept to our -compact to stand the truth from each other. -He came over here to marry Mabel, but Mr. -Creighton could not give him the portion—dot—you -know. He is dreadfully embarrassed, -<i>but that is a dead secret</i>.”</p> - -<p>“And you have out-bid her?”</p> - -<p>“I have done nothing of the sort. The -thing was quite settled before the Duke spoke -to me.”</p> - -<p>“He didn’t lose much time. He must -have been pretty sure how he would be received -before he wound up with Mabel.”</p> - -<p>“I did not discuss that part of it with -him.”</p> - -<p>“It’s too bad you didn’t discuss less. -Poor Mabel is a wreck. The way she is trying -to keep up is positively pathetic.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span></p> - -<p>“Well, my not marrying him would not -help her.”</p> - -<p>“Augusta, you are wood all through.”</p> - -<p>The young matron threw herself back in -her chair, and beat her knuckles sharply with -her lorgnette. Miss Maitland, who had not -spoken for some moments, now unburdened -herself.</p> - -<p>“I have a good deal to say, Augusta, and I -am going to say it. You know we all agreed -before we came out that we would regard -certain matters in a different light from that -of most fashionable girls; we agreed, among -other things, that, while enjoying all that our -wealth and position offered us, we would read, -and think, and endeavour to be of some use in -the world—not write polemical novels, or belong -to clubs, or anything of that sort, but -take the very best advantages of the accident -of our birth. And we also agreed—do you -remember?—that we would cultivate higher<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span> -ideals than most women care for—particularly -in our relations to each other and to men. It -is three years since that subject was discussed; -but you remember it, I suppose.”</p> - -<p>“I do, and I have not broken it.”</p> - -<p>“Very well, I shall say no more about that -particular phase of the matter; that is for you -to settle with your own conscience, and with -Mabel. This is what we are chiefly concerned -with: there are several ways by which our -example can benefit society, and the chief of -them is to stop marrying impecunious foreign -nobles!”</p> - -<p>She paused a moment. Augusta stiffened -up, but made no reply. Miss Maitland resumed:</p> - -<p>“As long as we continue to jump at titles -whenever they come gold-hunting and Jew-flying, -just so long shall we—the upper class -of the United States, which should be its best—be -contemptible in the eyes of the world.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span> -Just so long shall we be sneered at in the -newspapers, lampooned in novels, excoriated -by serious outsiders, and occupy an entirely -false place in contemporary history. We are -so conspicuous, that everything we do is tittle-tattled -in the Press—we are such a god-send -to them that it is a thousand pities we don’t -give them something worth writing about. -Now, my idea is this: that all we New York -girls band together and vow not to marry any -foreigner of title, English or otherwise, unless -he can cap our prospective inheritance by -twice the amount—which is equivalent to -vowing that we will go untitled to our graves. -Also, that such girls as we fail to convert from -this nonsensical snobbery, and who insist -upon marrying titles whenever they can get -them, will see none of us at their weddings.</p> - -<p>“Now this is the point: That would not -only express to the whole world our contempt<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span> -for the alliance of the fortune-hunter and the -snob, but it would raise the self-esteem of our -own men, and be one step toward making -them better than they are. You couldn’t convince -one of them that we are not all watching -the foreign horizon with spy-glasses, waiting -to make a break for the first title that appears, -and that they have not got to be content with -the leavings. But if they saw that we really -desired to marry Americans, and, above all, -men that we could love and respect, I believe -they would make an effort to be worthy of us. -That would certainly be one great step gained. -The next thing for us to do is to be able to -love hard enough to awaken the right kind of -love in men.”</p> - -<p>“Well?” asked Augusta.</p> - -<p>Miss Maitland’s cheeks were flushed. She -looked almost beautiful. Augusta felt that -she looked pasty, but did not care. She was -angry, but determined to control herself.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span></p> - -<p>“You have a great opportunity. Dismiss -the Duke of Bosworth, and avow openly that -you will only marry an American—that the -American at his best is your ideal. How it -can be otherwise, as the daughter of your -father, passes my comprehension. Will -you?”</p> - -<p>“Bravo, Alexis!” said Mrs. Burr. “We’ll -have to find a man who’s hunting for an ideal -woman. And you didn’t mention Socialism -once.”</p> - -<p>“That belongs to the future. I have come -to the conclusion that we must build the house -before we can fresco the walls.”</p> - -<p>Augusta had risen, and was walking up -and down the room. At the end of three or -four minutes she paused and faced her visitors, -looking down upon them with her habitual -calm, slightly accentuated.</p> - -<p>“A month ago I should have agreed -with you,” she said. “Your ideas, Alex,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span> -are always splendid, and, usually, no one -is more willing to adopt them than I. But -theories sometimes collide with facts. I -am going to marry the Duke of Bosworth.”</p> - -<p>They rose.</p> - -<p>“I hope you’ll scratch each other’s eyes -out!” said Mrs. Burr.</p> - -<p>“You married for money,” retorted Augusta.</p> - -<p>“I did, and my reasons were good ones, -as you know. Moreover, I married a man, -and an American. If I hadn’t liked him, -and if he’d looked as if he’d been boiled -for soup, I wouldn’t have looked at him -if he’d owned Colorado. Latimer’s wings -are not sprouting, and he doesn’t take -kindly to the idea of being reformed, but -I don’t regret having married him—not for -a minute. You will. Maybe you won’t -though.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span></p> - -<p>Miss Maitland had fastened her coat. She -gave her muff a little shake.</p> - -<p>“Good-bye, Augusta,” she said icily. -“It is too bad that you inherited nothing -from your father but his iron will.”</p> - -<p>And without shaking hands they went -out.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">But</span> although Augusta had maintained an -attitude of stiff defiance, she was by no -means pleased with herself. She rang for -her maid, dressed for the street, and a -few moments later was on her way to -Murray Hill. When she reached the Creighton’s -she went directly up to Mabel’s room, -and, after a hasty tap, entered. Mabel was -lying full-length on the divan among her -rainbow pillows, a silver bottle of smelling-salts -at her nose.</p> - -<p>She rose at once.</p> - -<p>“I have a headache,” she said coldly. -“Sit down.”</p> - -<p>“Mabel!” said Augusta precipitately, -“should you think me dishonourable if I -married the Duke of Bosworth?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span></p> - -<p>“If I did would it make any difference?”</p> - -<p>“No; but I’d rather you didn’t.”</p> - -<p>Mabel turned her head away and looked -into the logs burning on the hearth.</p> - -<p>“Until you yourself told me that it was -over,” pursued Augusta, “I gave him no sort -of encouragement; but as you cannot marry -him yourself, I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”</p> - -<p>“No; I suppose there is no reason why -you shouldn’t. Only it is something I -couldn’t do myself.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t know whether you could or -not. Nobody knows what abstract sentiments -he’ll sacrifice when he wants a -thing badly. If somebody suddenly died -and left you a fortune, wouldn’t you take -him from me if you could?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I would.”</p> - -<p>“Well, that would be much more dishonourable -than anything I have done.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span></p> - -<p>“I suppose so. I don’t care. I don’t -call that kind of thing honour. I wouldn’t -have done it in the first place.”</p> - -<p>“I fail to see any distinction, Mabel. -You never had any reasoning faculty. I -am much more suited to the Duke, anyhow, -for he is really clever.”</p> - -<p>“It isn’t cleverness he’s after.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, of course he must have money. -One is used to that. It’s like knowing -that lots of people come to your house -because you give good dinners; but you don’t -like them any the less; in fact, don’t think -about it. We have to take the world as we -find it. If you regard the Duke as a fortune-hunter -I wonder you can still love -him.”</p> - -<p>Mabel turned her head and regarded Miss -Forbes with a haughty stare. “I do not -love him,” she said, “I despise him too -thoroughly. It is my pride only that is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span> -irritated. Don’t let there be any doubt on -that point.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I am delighted—relieved! It has -worried me, made me genuinely unhappy; -it has indeed, Mabel dear. I will admit -that I had misgivings, that I was not altogether -satisfied with myself; but now I -can be as happy as ever again. And you -don’t think it dishonourable? Please say -that.”</p> - -<p>“No, I don’t think it dishonourable; (for -we are no longer friends),” she added to -herself; but she was too generous to say -it aloud.</p> - -<p>Augusta went away a few minutes later, -and Mabel, who was not going out that -evening, flung herself on the divan, and -sobbed into her cushions.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Several</span> evenings later, a banquet was -given to a party of Russian notables. As -no young people were invited, Augusta, -chaperoned by her father’s sister, Mrs. Van -Rhuys, arranged a theatre party, which included -the English Duke.</p> - -<p>As Mrs. Forbes stood between her mirrors -that evening, she wondered if she had -ever looked more lovely. She wore a gown -of ivory white satin, so thick that it -creaked, and entirely without trimming, -save for the lace on the bust. But about -the waist, one end hanging almost to the -hem of the gown was a ribbon of large -pigeon-blood rubies. A collar of the same -gems lay at the base of her long round<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span> -throat. Above her brow blazed a great -star, the points set with diamonds, radiating -from a massive ruby. A smaller star -clasped the lace at her breast. The bracelets -on her arms, the rings on her fingers, -sparkled pink and white.</p> - -<p>Her lips parted slightly. She thrilled -with triumph, intoxicated with her beauty -and magnificence. For this woman could -never become <i>blasé</i>, never cease to be -vital, until the shroud claimed her.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, she felt unaccountably nervous. -She had felt so all day.</p> - -<p>“I am quite well, am I not, mammy?” -she said to an old negro woman who sat -regarding her with rapt admiration. The -negress had been Virginia’s nurse and personal -attendant for thirty-nine years. Only -the ocean—for which she had an unsurmountable -horror—had separated them. In -Augusta she had never taken the slightest<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</span> -interest, but over her idolized mistress she -exercised an austere vigilance. And as she -was a good old-fashioned doctor, and understood -Mrs. Forbes’ constitution as had it -been a diagram of straight lines, she was -always on the alert to checkmate nature, and -rarely unsuccessful.</p> - -<p>“You sut’n’y is, honey,” she replied. -“You never was pearter. No wonder you -git ’cited sometimes with all dose purty -things that cos’ such heaps and heaps o’ -money. Yo’ uster go wild over yore toys, -and you al’ays will be de same.”</p> - -<p>It was not yet eight and Mrs. Forbes -seated herself lightly on the old woman’s knee. -At that moment Augusta entered the room.</p> - -<p>“Mother!” she exclaimed in a disgusted -voice. “Do get up. I declare you are -nothing but a big overgrown baby. If it -isn’t papa it’s mammy, and if it isn’t mammy -it’s papa.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</span></p> - -<p>“I suppose you can get through life without -coddling,” replied her mother, undisturbed; -“but I can’t. You look remarkably -well this evening.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks.” Miss Forbes regarded herself -complacently in the mirror. She wore black -and pink and there was colour in her face. -“I’m no beauty, but I think I do look rather -well, and this frock is certainly a stunning -fit. You are a vision as usual. There is the -carriage.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Forbes rose and the maid enveloped -her in a long mantle of white velvet lined with -ermine. The old negress adjusted the inner -flap over the chest and wrapped a lace scarf -about the softly-dressed hair.</p> - -<p>“You is a leetle nervous, honey,” she said. -“Has anything put yo’ out? Don’t you tetch -one bit o’ sweets to-night and not a drap o’ -coffee.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll have it out when we come home, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span> -get it over,” thought Mrs. Forbes as she went -down the stair and smiled to her husband, -who awaited her in the hall below. “That is -what is making me so nervous.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Forbes, like many New York millionaires, -had spread his house over all the land -he could buy in one spot on The Avenue, and -there was no <i>porte cochère</i>. When his wife -was obliged to go out in stormy weather an -awning was erected between the front doors -and the curb-stone. To-night it was snowing -heavily. As she appeared on the stair two -men-servants opened the doors and flung a -carpet from the threshold to the carriage-step. -If Virginia Forbes had ever wet her boots -or slippers she could not recall the occasion.</p> - -<p>She was the sensation of the dinner and of -the reception afterward. The foreigners stood -about her in a rivetted cluster, and with the -extravagance of their kind assured her that -there was no woman in Europe at once so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span> -beautiful and so clever. She took their flatteries -for what they were worth; they could -have salaamed before her without turning her -head; but she revelled in the adulation, nevertheless.</p> - -<p>Mr. Forbes had two important letters to -write when they returned home, and she -went with him to the library. As he took -the chair before his desk she got him a fresh -pen, then poured him some whisky from the -decanter. She was as fresh as when she had -left the house, and he looked at her with passionate -admiration.</p> - -<p>“I should like to be able to tell you -how proud I was of you to-night,” he -said. “Sometimes I believe that you are -really the most splendid creature on earth.”</p> - -<p>“That is what those princelings were telling -me,” she said, rumpling his hair. “But -you flatter me much more, for I may suspect -that you mean it.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</span></p> - -<p>“Well, sit where I can’t see you or I -sha’n’t do much writing. Don’t go, though.”</p> - -<p>She took an easy chair by the fire, but -although she lay in its depths and put her -little feet on a low pouf, she drew the long -rope of jewels nervously through her fingers. -Once or twice her breath came short, and -then she clasped the rubies so closely that the -setting dented her skin.</p> - -<p>“I must, must brace up,” she thought. -“Unless I am at my best I shall be no match -for him, and I must win in the first round or it -will be a long hard fight that I may not be -equal to. Besides, I should hate it.”</p> - -<p>She was glad to have the interview in the -library, her husband’s favourite room. It was -a long narrow room, lined to the ceiling with -the books of seven generations: Mr. Forbes -came of a line of men that had been noted for -mental activity in one wise or another since -England had civilized America. There were<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</span> -busts and bas-reliefs of great men, and many -pieces of old carved furniture. The curtains, -carpet, and easy chairs were lit with red, and -very luxurious. The mantel was of black -onyx. Above it was a portrait of Mrs. Forbes -by Sargeant. The great artist protested that -he had interpreted “the very sky and sea-line -of her soul.” Certain it is that he had chosen -to see only that which was noble and alluring. -Imperious pride was in the poise of the head, -the curve of the short upper lip; but it was the -unself-conscious pride of race and the <i>autorité</i> -of a lovely woman which all men delighted to -foster. The eyes, sensuous, tender, expectant, -were the eyes of a woman who had -loved one man only, and that man with fond -reiteration. The lower lip was full, the mouth -slightly parted. The brow was so clear that -it seemed to shed radiance. It uplifted the -face, as if the soul dwelt there, at home with -the vigorous brain.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</span></p> - -<p>Some thin white stuff was folded closely -over the small low bust. A string of large -pearls was wound in and out of the heavy -hair, whose living warmth the artist had not -failed to transfer. Indeed, warmth, life, passion, -soul, intelligence seemed to emanate -from this wonderful portrait, so combined by -the limner as to convey an impression of -modern womanhood perfected, satisfied, triumphant, -to which the world could give no -more, and from which the passing years -would hesitate to steal aught. Sometimes -Virginia Forbes stood and regarded it sadly. -“It is an ideal me,” she would think, “all -that I should like to be—that I might—were -it not for this trowelful of clay in my -soul.” Although Mr. Forbes was too keen -a student of human nature to be ignorant -of his wife’s faults, his faith was so -strong in the large full side of her nature -that he had long since felt justified in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</span> -closing his eyes to all that fell below the -ideal.</p> - -<p>He wrote for an hour, then threw the pen -down, rose, and ran his fingers through his -hair.</p> - -<p>“Thank heaven that is over. I can sleep -in peace. How good of you to wait for me. -Are you very tired?”</p> - -<p>“No,” she said, and unconsciously her lips -lost their fulness, and she clutched the stones -so tightly that they bruised her flesh. “Will -you sit down, Ned, dear? I want to talk to -you.”</p> - -<p>“Is anything the matter?” he asked -anxiously. “You’ve lost your colour since -you came in. I am afraid you go too hard. -New York is a killing place. Shall we go to -Asheville for a week or two?”</p> - -<p>“I never felt better. Sit down—there—where -I can see you; and light a cigar. I am -going to speak of something very important.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</span> -You won’t like what I say—at first; but I am -sure you will when I have finished.”</p> - -<p>He sat down, much puzzled. “I don’t -want to smoke, and I’m afraid something has -gone wrong with you. Have you been investing -and lost? You know that I never -ask what you do with your money, and if you -are short all you have to do is to ask for -more.”</p> - -<p>“You know that I never would invest -money without your advice; and I have -scarcely touched this year’s income. It is -about Augusta.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Forbes raised his brows. “Augusta? -She doesn’t want to take to the public platform, -I hope.”</p> - -<p>“She is in love.”</p> - -<p>“What? Our calm, superior—with -whom, for heaven’s sake?”</p> - -<p>“With the Duke of Bosworth.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Forbes sat forward in his chair, pressing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</span> -his hands upon its arms. The blood rose -slowly and covered his face. “The Duke -of Bosworth!” he ejaculated. “Do you -mean to tell me that our daughter, and a girl -who is American to her finger-tips, has had -her head turned by a title?”</p> - -<p>“It is not the title, Ned; it is the -man——”</p> - -<p>“Impossible! The man? Why, he’s not -a man. He’s—but I don’t choose to express -to you or to any woman what I think of -him. I never set up to be a saint; I went -the pace with other men before I married -you; but in my opinion the best thing -that remnants like Bosworth can do is to -get into the family vault as quickly as -possible and leave no second edition behind -them. He’ll leave none of my blood.”</p> - -<p>“You misjudge him, dear; I am sure -you do. I have talked much with him. -He is very intelligent, and, I think, would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</span> -be glad to live his life over. It is his -delicate physique that gives him the appearance -of a wreck.”</p> - -<p>“Excuse me. I have seen men of delicate -physique all my life. I am also a man -of the world. Sooner than have that puny -demoralised creature the father of my grandchildren, -I should gladly see Augusta spend -her life alone—happy as we have been. I -cannot understand it. She must be hypnotised. -And you, Virginia! I am ashamed -of you. I cannot believe that you have -encouraged her. You, the cleverest and -most sensible woman I have ever known! -Do you wish to see your daughter the -wife of that man?”</p> - -<p>“I should not if she were like some girls. -But she has little sentiment and ideality. -She is a strong masculine character, just -the type to give new life and stamina to -the decaying houses of the old world. She<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</span> -is not as clever as she thinks, but at -thirty she will know her limitations and be -a very level-headed well-balanced woman. -She will shed no tears over the Duke’s -defections, and you know what Darwin -says about the children of strong mothers -and dissipated eldest sons. I am sure -that Augusta’s children will not disgrace -you.”</p> - -<p>“What you say sounds well: I never -yet knew you to fail to make out a good -case when driven to a corner; but this -miserable man’s children will not be my -grandchildren.”</p> - -<p>“Ned, you are so prejudiced. You are -such a rampant American.”</p> - -<p>“I am, I hope. And you know perfectly -well that I am not prejudiced. I know -many members of the British peerage for -whom I have hearty liking and respect. -Some of the best brains the world has<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</span> -ever known have belonged to the English -aristocracy. But this whelp—if he were the -son of as good an American as I am do -you think it would make any difference? -And if he were worthy of his blood he -could have my daughter and welcome.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Forbes had controlled herself inflexibly, -but she was conscious of increasing -excitement. Her eyes looked as hard and -brilliant as the jewels upon her. Her hands -trembled as she played with her rope of -rubies. She recognised that he was conclusive; -that it would be worse than folly -to resort to endearment and cajolery, even -could she bring herself to the mood. But -before such uncompromising opposition her -ambition cemented and controlled her, was -near to torching reason and judgment. -She would not trust herself to speak for -a moment, but looked fixedly at her husband.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</span></p> - -<p>“I thought this little fortune-hunter was -engaged to Mabel Creighton,” he said abruptly.</p> - -<p>“That was all a mistake——”</p> - -<p>“He found out that Creighton was in a -hole, I suppose. Virginia!—it is not possible?—you -did not tell him?—you have not -been scheming to bring about this damnable -transaction?”</p> - -<p>“Of course I did not tell him. I wish -you wouldn’t screw up your eyes like that -at me. I saw before he had been here a -week that he had fallen in love with Augusta——”</p> - -<p>“Love be damned! Do you imagine a -man like that loves?”</p> - -<p>“Well, liked then. Of course he cannot -afford to marry without money——”</p> - -<p>“And I am expected to buy him, I suppose?”</p> - -<p>“Don’t be so coarse! Now listen to me,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</span> -Ned. <i>I</i> want this match. Of course I -should not move in the matter if I did -not respect the Duke, and if Augusta didn’t -love him as much as she is capable of -loving. But I want this English alliance—and -there may never be another opportunity. -I will state the fact plainly—it would -give me the greatest possible satisfaction to -know that my position was as assured in -England as it is in America——”</p> - -<p>“Good God! What is the matter with -you American women? If you sat down -and worked it out, could you tell why -you are all so mad about the English nobility? -Or wouldn’t you blush if you -could? As I said the other day it is a -germ disease—a species of brain-poisoning. -It eats and rots. It demoralises like morphine -and alcohol. After a woman has -once let herself go, she is good for nothing -else for the rest of her life. She eats,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</span> -drinks, sleeps, thinks English aristocracy. -Even you, if I gave you your head, would -find it in you to become a veritable coronet-chaser—you!—my -God! Well, it won’t -be in my time; and if Augusta runs off -with this debased dishonoured little wretch -she’ll not get one cent of mine. And -there will be no breaking of wills; I’ll dispose -of my fortune before I die. I -shall take good care to let him know -this at once, for I make no doubt he’s desperate——”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Forbes sprang to her feet. “You -never spoke so to me before,” she cried -furiously. “I do not believe you love me. -So long as I spend my life studying your -wishes—and I have studied them for twenty-two years—you -are amiable and charming -enough; but now that your wife and daughter -want something that you don’t wish -to give them, that doesn’t happen to suit<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</span> -your fancy, you turn upon me in your -true character of a tyrant——”</p> - -<p>“Virginia! hush!” said Mr. Forbes -sternly. “I have done nothing of the sort. -You are talking like a petulant child. Come -here and tell me that you will think no -more of this wretched business——”</p> - -<p>He went forward, but she moved rapidly -aside.</p> - -<p>“Don’t touch me,” she said. “I am not -in the mood to be touched. And I shall -never be happy again if you refuse your -consent to this marriage.”</p> - -<p>“Never be what? Has our happiness -rested on so uncertain a foundation as that? -I thought that you loved me.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I do. Of course I do. But can’t -you understand that love isn’t everything -to a woman?—any more than it is to a -man? I would be married to no other -man on earth, not to a prince of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</span> -blood. But it is not everything to me any -more than it is everything to you. Suppose -you were suddenly stripped of your -tremendous political influence, of your financial -power, and reduced to the mere domestic -and social round? Would I suffice? -Not unless you were eighty and in -need of a nurse.”</p> - -<p>She had drawn herself up to her full -commanding height. Her head was thrown -back, her nostrils were distended, her lips -were a scarlet undulating line. There was -no other colour in her face. It looked as -opaque, as hard as ivory. The eyes were -merciless; even their brown had lost its -warmth. The jewels with which she was -hung, which glowed with deep rubescent -fire on her robe and neck and brow, gave -her the appearance of an idol—an idol which -had suddenly been informed with the spirit -of pitiless ambition and spurned its creator.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</span></p> - -<p>Mr. Forbes had turned very grey. His -nostrils and lips contracted. His teeth set. -Involuntarily he glanced from the woman to -the portrait. The portrait was more alive -than the woman.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you understand?” she demanded.</p> - -<p>“No,” he said, “I don’t think I do. At -least I hope I do not. At all events, I -hope we may not discuss this subject again. -I did not tell you that I intend to pull -Creighton through. I cannot see an old -friend go under. It will be to the Duke’s -interest to push his suit in that quarter—if -they want him. Now, please go to your -room. You are very much excited. If you -were not I hardly think you would have -spoken as you have.”</p> - -<p>He went to the end of the room and -opened the door. She passed him quickly -with averted head.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Once</span> more father and daughter faced each -other across the breakfast table. This time, -Augusta, with a very red face, stared defiantly -into bitter and contemptuous eyes.</p> - -<p>“And your socialism? Do you expect to -convert your Duke?”</p> - -<p>“No, papa; of course not.”</p> - -<p>“It is exactly five weeks since you informed -me that you wished me to devote my fortune -to the dear people.”</p> - -<p>“I know it, papa. One looks at things -very differently when one looks at them -through a man’s eyes, as it were—I mean -through the eyes of the man one has fallen in -love with; of course I always have had the -highest respect for your opinion. Now, it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</span> -seems to me a grand thing to restore the -fortunes of an ancient and illustrious -house——”</p> - -<p>“That is the reason the good God permitted -me to be born, I suppose—to sacrifice -some ten or fifteen years of man’s allotted -span in accumulating millions with which to -prop up a rotten aristocracy.”</p> - -<p>“Papa! I never knew you to be so bitter. -You are quite unlike yourself this morning. -Of course, we don’t all look at things in the -same way in this world. But I don’t wish -you to think that I have entirely forsaken my -old principles. I should do much good with -my money in England. The poverty is said -to be frightful there; and I hear that the -working-men on the great estates only get -a pound a week, and sometimes less. I -should pay those on our estates more, my -self.”</p> - -<p>“It doesn’t occur to you, I suppose, that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</span> -American-made millions should be spent in -America, and that we have poverty enough of -our own.”</p> - -<p>“Our poor are mostly Europeans,” she retorted -quickly.</p> - -<p>He gave a brief laugh. “You have me -there. Well; go on. You intend to reform -this poor little trembling sore-eyed weak-kneed, -debauchee——”</p> - -<p>“Father! I will not permit you to speak -in that way of the Duke of Bosworth.”</p> - -<p>She had sprung from her chair. Like all -phlegmatic natures, when the depths were -stirred she was violent and ugly. She looked -as if about to leap upon her parent and beat -him.</p> - -<p>He rose also and looked down on her. -“You will not do what?” he said with a cutting -contempt. “Go upstairs to your room, -and stay there until I give you permission -to leave it. And understand here, once for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</span> -all, that not one dollar of mine will ever go -into that man’s pocket. If he marries you, -he will have to support you, or you him: -I shall not take the trouble to enquire -which.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Forbes</span> was obliged to go that morning -to Boston, to remain until the following -evening. He did not see his wife before he -left—had not seen her since the interview in -the library. She had locked herself in her -room, and he was not the man to hammer on -a sulking woman’s door.</p> - -<p>Several men he knew were in his car, and -he talked with them until the train reached -Boston. There he was engrossed; he had -barely time to snatch a few hours for sleep, -none for thought. But the next day, after -taking his chair in the train for New York, -and observing that he knew no one in the -car, he became aware that the heart within -him was heavy. He and his wife had quarrelled<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</span> -before, for she had a hot Southern -temper, and he was by no means without -gunpowder of his own; but none of their -disputes had left behind it the flavour of this. -That she should tolerate such a man as Bosworth, -had disappointed him; that she should -espouse his pretensions to their only child, -filled him with disgust and something like -terror; and her snobbery sickened him. But -what had stabbed into the quick of his heart -were her final words. He repeated them -again and again, hoping to dull their edge.</p> - -<p>Moreover, she had never let the night set -its ugly seal on their quarrels. Her tempers -were soon over, and she had invariably come -to him and commanded or coaxed for reconciliation, -as her mood dictated. He had -steered safely through the first trying years -of matrimony, and it appalled him to think -that perhaps an unreckoned future lay before -them both.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</span></p> - -<p>When he entered his house something -struck him as out of the common. A servant -had fetched his portmanteau from the cab. -It suddenly occurred to Mr. Forbes that the -man had ostentatiously evaded his eye.</p> - -<p>He walked toward the stair, hesitated, then -turned.</p> - -<p>“Is Mrs. Forbes well?” he asked; and he -found that he was making an effort to control -his voice.</p> - -<p>The man flushed and hung his head. -“Mrs. Forbes and Miss Augusta sailed for -Europe this afternoon, sir. There’s a letter -for you on the mantel-piece in the library.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Forbes did not trust himself to say, -“Ah!” As he turned the knob of the library -door his hand trembled. He entered, and -locked the door behind him.</p> - -<p>He opened the letter at once and read it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</span></p><div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“I think you did not understand on Monday -night that I was in earnest,” it ran. “I -am so much in earnest that I shall not stay -here to bicker with you. That we have never -done. I do not wish to run the risk of speaking -again as I spoke the last time we were together. -I know that I hurt you, and I am very -sorry. If I did not believe that you were entirely -wrong in the stand you have taken, I -should not think of taking any decisive step in -the matter myself; for it hurts me to hurt you—please -believe that. But I feel sure that as -soon as you are alone and think it over calmly, -you will see that your opposition is hardly -warrantable, and that the wishes of your wife -and daughter are worthy of serious consideration. -If we remained to renew the subject -constantly you would not give it this consideration; -there would be an undignified and -regrettable war of words every day.</p> - -<p>“This is what I have made up my mind to -do: if you persist in refusing your consent—which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</span> -I cannot believe—I shall, on the tenth -day of March, turn over all my own property -to the Duke: my houses in Newport and -Asheville, my horses and yacht, and my -jewels. Two days later they will marry. I -stand pledged to these two people that they -shall marry, and nothing will induce me to -break my word.</p> - -<p>“I sail to-day with Augusta on the <i>Brétagne</i>; -I go to Paris first to order the trousseau. -My address will be the ‘Bristol’; but I shall -only be in Paris a week. From there I shall -go to London—to the ‘Bristol.’ The Duke -and Fletcher Cuyler sail to-day on the <i>Majestic</i>.</p> - -<p>“I am afraid I have expressed myself brutally. -My head aches. I am very nervous. I -can hardly get my thoughts together, with all -this hurry and confusion, and the unhappy -knowledge that I am displeasing you. But -this cloud that has fallen between us can be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</span> -brushed aside; we can be happy again, and -at once. It only rests with you.</p> - -<p class="right no-indent">“<span class="smcap">Virginia.</span></p> - -<p>“I have told Harriet to make a plausible -explanation of our abrupt departure. She has -a talent for that sort of thing. No one need -know that there has been the slightest difference -of opinion.”</p> -</div> - -<p>Mr. Forbes dropped the letter to the -floor, and leaned forward, his elbows digging -into his knees, his hands pressed to his -head.</p> - -<p>He stared at the carpet His face was as -white as if someone had struck him a blow -in a vital part. The tears gathered slowly -in his eyes and rolled over his cheeks. -Suddenly his hands covered his face; and -sobs shook him from head to foot.</p> - -<p>“What have I loved?” he thought. -“What have I loved? Have I been in a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</span> -fool’s paradise for twenty-two years? Oh, -my God!”</p> - -<p>This woman had been the pre-eminent -consideration of the best years of his life. -He had loved her supremely. He had been -faithful to her. He had poured millions at -her feet, delighted to gratify her love of -splendour and power. And never had a -man seemed more justified. She had half -lived in his arms. She had been his comrade -and friend, a source of sympathy and -repose and diversion and happiness that had -never failed him; for nearly a quarter of a -century. And now she had sold him, trodden -in the dirt his will, his pride, his -heart, that she might finger a coronet which -could never be hers, but gloat over the -tarnish on her fingers.</p> - -<p>He sat there for many hours. Dinner -was announced, but he paid no heed. He -reviewed his married life. It had seemed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</span> -to him very nearly perfect. It lost nothing -in the retrospect. He doubted if many -men were as happy as he had been, if -many women had as much to give to a -man as Virginia Forbes. And now it had -come to a full stop; to be resumed, pitted -and truncated, in another chapter. The delight -of being petted and spoiled and -adored by a man whom all men respected, -the love and communion upon which she -had seemed passionately dependent, were -chaff in the scale against her personal and -social vanities.</p> - -<p>Life had been very kind to him. Money, -position, influential friends had been his -birthright. His talents had been recognised -in his early manhood. He had turned his -original thousands into millions. No man -in the United States stood higher in the -public estimation, nor could have had a -wider popularity, had he chosen to send<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</span> -his magnetism to the people. No American -was more hospitably received abroad. -Probably no man living was the object of -more kindly envy. And yet he sat alone -in his magnificent house and asked himself, -“For what were mortals born?” His -heart ached so that he could have torn it out -and trampled on it. And the gall that bit -the raw wound was the knowledge that -he must go on loving this woman so -long as life was in him.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Forbes</span> and her daughter had been -in London two weeks. The engagement -had been announced by the Duke a week -previously, and was the sensation of the -hour. The American newspapers were -agog, but, as Mr. Forbes refused to be interviewed, -were obliged to content themselves -with daily bulletins from London. -Mr. Forbes’ opposition was suspected, but -could not be verified. When congratulated, -he replied diplomatically that he was not -a warm advocate of international marriages. -He hedged with a sense of bitter abasement, -but he could not fling his dignity -into the public maw.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Van Rhuys informed people that,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</span> -personally, her brother liked the Duke of -Bosworth, but had hoped that Augusta -would marry an American. She could not -name the exact amount of the dowry; several -millions, probably. The Duke seemed -singularly indifferent. He wished the marriage -to take place at once and in England, -that his mother, who idolized him, -might be present. Wherefore the sudden -move, as the trousseau was of far more -importance than the breaking of a dozen -social engagements. Mr. Forbes would go -over for the wedding, of course—unless -this dreadful financial muddle prevented. -She and her brother-in-law, Schuyler Van -Rhuys, who was nursing the wound inflicted -by that unintelligible Californian, -Helena Belmont, should go, in any case. -No; the Duke had not jilted Mabel Creighton. -On the contrary, Mabel might be -said to have made the match. She and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</span> -the Duke had known each other for a long -while, and were the best of friends, nothing -more.</p> - -<p>All the folk in London of the Duke’s set -had called on Mrs. Forbes and the impending -Duchess. As Parliament was sitting, -there was a goodly number of them. The -United States Ambassador gave a banquet -in honour of the engagement, and it was -the first of many attentions.</p> - -<p>But the Duke was a man in whom few -beyond his intimate circle took personal -interest: he was cold, repellent, unpicturesque. -The heiress had neither beauty nor -the thistle-down attraction of the average -American girl. It was Virginia Forbes who -introduced a singular variation into this -important but hackneyed transaction, and -atoned for the paucities of the principal -figures: she absorbed something more than -two-thirds of the public attention. Her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</span> -beauty, her distinction, her lively wit, her -exquisite taste in dress, her jewels, above -all her girlish appearance, commanded the -reluctant admiration or the subtle envy of -the women, the enthusiasm of the men, -and the unflagging attentions of the weekly -press. Her ancestry was suddenly discovered, -and was a mine of glittering and -illimited strata. Her photograph was printed -in every paper which aimed to amuse a -great and weary people, and was on sale -in the shops. In short, she was the -“news” of the hour; and the twentieth of -his line and the lady who would save the -entail were the mere mechanism selected -by Circumstance to steer a charming woman -to her regalities.</p> - -<p>“You certainly ought to be in a state of -unleavened bliss,” remarked her daughter -with some sarcasm one evening as they -sat together after tea, alone for the hour.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</span> -“You simply laid your plans, sailed over, -and down went London. I never knew -anything quite so neat in my life. But it -is in some people’s lines to get everything -they want, and I suppose you will -to the end of the chapter.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Forbes was gazing into the fire -through the sticks of a fan. Her face was -without its usual colour and her lips were -contracted.</p> - -<p>“Not a line from your father, and it is -three weeks,” she said abruptly.</p> - -<p>“You did not expect <i>him</i>—father!—to -come round in a whirl, I suppose. But -why do you worry so? You know that -it can end in one way only. We are all -he has, and he adores us, and cannot live -without us. It isn’t as if he were fast, -like so many New York men. I have not -worried—not for a moment.”</p> - -<p>“How can you be so cold-blooded? I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</span> -wish you knew the wretch I feel. If he -does adore us, cannot you comprehend -what we are making him suffer? Sometimes -I think I can never make it up to -him, not with all the devotion I am capable -of, after this miserable business is over.”</p> - -<p>“Mother! You are not weakening? -You will not retreat now that you have -gone so far?”</p> - -<p>“I have no intention of retreating. But -I wish that I had stayed in New York -and fought it out there. It was a shocking -and heartless thing to run away and -leave him like that, a brutal and insulting -thing; but when he told me that he should -pull Mr. Creighton through, and speak to -the Duke, this move seemed the only one -that could save the game.”</p> - -<p>“And a very wise one it was. Father -would have beaten you in the end—surely; -he can do anything with you. I think it is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</span> -humiliating to be part and parcel of a man -like that.”</p> - -<p>“You know nothing of love. You are -fascinated by a man who has the magnetism -of indifference; that is all.”</p> - -<p>“I am quite sure that I love Bertie,” said -Miss Forbes with decision. “I have analyzed -myself thoroughly, and I feel convinced that -it is love—although I thank my stars that I -could never in any circumstances be so besottedly -in love with a man as you are with dear -papa. I do not pretend to deny that I am -pleased, very pleased, at the idea of being a -Duchess. All we American girls of the best -families have good blue English blood in our -veins, and it seems to me that in accepting the -best that the mother country can offer us, we -should feel no more flattered or excited than -any English-born girl in the same circumstances. -For the <i>nouveau riche</i>—the fungi—of -course it is ridiculous, and also lamentable:<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</span> -they muddy a pure stream, and they are chromos -in a jewelled frame. But there are many -of us that should feel a certain gratitude to -Providence that we are permitted to save -from ruin the grand old families whose ancestors -and ours played together, perhaps, as -children. To me it is a sacred duty as well as -a very great pleasure. Papa’s English ancestors -may not have been as smart as yours, but -he has seven generations of education and refinement, -position and wealth behind him in -the United States; he is the chief figure in the -aristocracy of the United States; and in time -he must see things as we do.”</p> - -<p>To this edifying homily Mrs. Forbes gave -scant attention. She was tormented with -conjectures of her husband’s scorn and displeasure, -picturing his loneliness. Sometimes -she awoke suddenly in the night, lost the -drift for the moment of conversation in company, -saw a blank wall instead of the <i>mise en<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</span> -scène</i> of the play, her brain flaring with the -enigma: “Will life ever be quite the same -again?” She had had a second object in leaving -New York abruptly: she believed that her -husband could not stand the test of her absence -and anger. But in the excitement and -rush of those two days she had not looked -into her deeper knowledge of him. She had -known him very well. It was a dangerous -experiment to wound a great nature, to shatter -the delicate partition between illusion and -an analytical mind.</p> - -<p>“What a dreadful sigh!” expostulated Miss -Forbes. “It is bad for the heart to sigh like -that. I don’t think you are very well. I -don’t think, lovely as you look, that you have -been quite up to mark since we left New -York.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose it is because I was ill crossing; -I never was before, you know. And then it -is the first time in my life that I have been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</span> -away from both your father and mammy. I -am so used to being taken care of that I feel as -if I were doing the wrong thing all the time, -and Marie is merely a toilette automaton. -This morning the clothes were half off the bed -when I woke up, and the window was open; -and yesterday Marie gave me the wrong wrap, -and I was cold all the afternoon.”</p> - -<p>“Good heavens, mother!” cried Miss -Forbes. “Fancy being thirty-nine and such a -baby. I feel years older than you.”</p> - -<p>“And immeasurably superior. I suppose -the petting and care I have had all my life -would bore you. Well, your cold independent -nature often makes me wonder what are its -demands upon happiness. Does Bertie ever -kiss you?”</p> - -<p>“Occasionally; but I don’t care much -about kissing. We discuss the questions of -the day.”</p> - -<p>“Poor man!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</span></p> - -<p>“I am sure that he likes it, and we shall get -along admirably. I am the stronger nature, -and I feel reasonably certain that I shall acquire -great influence over him, and make an exemplary -man of him.”</p> - -<p>“Great heavens!” thought Mrs. Forbes. -“A plain passionless pseudo-intellectual girl -reforming an English profligate! What a -sight for the gods!”</p> - -<p>“I hope papa will come round before the -wedding, because I wish only the interest -of my dowry settled on us, and it takes a -man to hold out on that point. That would -give me the upper hand in a way. You -have not written to him since we left, have -you?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you think it is time?”</p> - -<p>“I intend to write by to-morrow’s -steamer.”</p> - -<p>“Do make him really understand that he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</span> -is forcing you to sacrifice the houses and -jewels to which you are so much attached.”</p> - -<p>“I shall make it as strong as I can.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll write to Aunt Harriet, and tell her to -talk to him. Poor dear papa, I am afraid he is -lonesome. I wish he would come over so -that we could all be together again. Give him -my love and a kiss.”</p> - -<p>“You certainly have a magnificent sense of -humour.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Forbes</span> read his wife’s second letter -with dry eyes. His face, during the past -weeks, had been habitually hard and severe. -He looked older. It was a long letter. It was -fragrant with love and admitted remorse; but -it reasserted that unless he made the required -settlement three weeks from receipt she would -hand over to the Duke’s attorneys all she possessed.</p> - -<p>Mr. Forbes tore the letter into strips and -threw them on the fire. His face had flushed -as he read; and as he lay back in his chair, it -relaxed somewhat.</p> - -<p>“If she were here would I yield?” he -thought. “I am thankful that she is not. Or -am I? I don’t know. What fools we mortals<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</span> -be—in the hands of a woman. Five millions -seem a small price to have her back. But to -pay them, unfortunately, means the free gift of -my self-respect. What is to come? What is -to come? I had believed at times that this -woman read my very soul and touched it. -Her intuitions, her sympathy, her subtle comprehension -of the highest wants of a man’s -nature and reverence for them amounted to -something like genius. Indeed, she had a -genius for loving—a most uncommon gift. -Or so it seemed to me. But I think that few -men would appreciate that they were idealising -a woman like Virginia Forbes. And now? I -am to take back the beautiful woman, the -companionable mind, I suppose—nothing -more. But it is something to have been a fool -for twenty-two years. I cannot say that I -have any regrets. And possibly it was my -own fault that I could not make her love me -better.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</span></p> - -<p>He looked up at the picture. “Several -times,” he thought, “I have felt like mounting -a chair and kissing it. And if I did, I -should feel as if I were kissing the lips of a -corpse.”</p> - -<p>“Ned! Are you there?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Forbes rose instantly. The door had -opened, and a tall woman, not unlike Augusta, -but with something more of mellowness, had -entered.</p> - -<p>“I am glad to see you, Harriet,” he said. -“What brings you at this hour? Have you -come to help me through my solitary -dinner?”</p> - -<p>“I will stay to dinner, certainly.” Mrs. -Van Rhuys took the chair he offered, and -looked at him keenly. “I have just received -a letter from Augusta,” she said. “Do withdraw -your opposition, Ned. Yield gracefully, -before the world knows what it is beginning -to suspect. And a man can never hold out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</span> -against his womankind. He might just as -well give in at once and save wrinkles.”</p> - -<p>“What is your personal opinion of the -Duke of Bosworth?” asked Mr. Forbes -curtly.</p> - -<p>“Well, I certainly should have chosen a -finer sample of the English aristocracy for Augusta, -but I cannot sympathise with your -violent antipathy to him. His manners are -remarkably good for an Englishman, and it -would be one of the most notable marriages -in American history.”</p> - -<p>“You women are all alike,” said Mr. -Forbes contemptuously. “Would you give -your daughter to this man?”</p> - -<p>“Assuredly. I am positive that when -the little Duke settles down he will be all -that could be desired. He has something -to live for now. Poor thing! He has -been hampered with debts ever since he -came of age. The old Duke was a sad<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</span> -profligate, but a very charming man. -What it is I do not pretend to define, -and I say it without any snobbishness, for -I am devoted to New York; but there -is something about the English aristocracy——”</p> - -<p>“Oh!”—Mr. Forbes rattled the shovel -among the coals—“Do, please, spare me. -You’re all peer-bewitched, every one of -you. Don’t let us discuss the subject any -farther. It is loathsome to me, and I am -ashamed of my womankind.”</p> - -<p>“Are you determined to let Virginia sell -her houses and jewels, Ned? It will break -her heart.”</p> - -<p>“She knew what she was doing when -she struck the bargain. It was an entirely -voluntary act on her part. I see no -reason why she should not stand the consequences. -Shall we go in to dinner?”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> next evening Miss Forbes dressed for -a dinner party in a very bad humour.</p> - -<p>Her mother was prostrated with a violent -headache and had been obliged to send an -excuse.</p> - -<p>“Such a dreadful thing to do,” grumbled -Augusta to her maid as she revolved before -the pier glass. “Have you asked -Marie the particulars? Is my mother really -ill?”</p> - -<p>“Dreadful, I believe, miss.”</p> - -<p>“It makes me feel heartless to leave her, -but one of us must go, that is certain. -Can I see her?”</p> - -<p>“No, miss. She is trying to sleep.”</p> - -<p>“People may have an idea that the path<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</span> -of an American heiress who is going to -marry an English Duke is strewn with -Jacqueminots; I wish they knew what -I have gone through in the last month. -I wish to heaven papa would come over.”</p> - -<p>It was a bright and lively dinner given -by a very young and newly-titled United -Statesian, who treated the British peerage -as a large and lovely joke, and was accepted -on much the same footing. The -Duke, who had pulled himself together -since the swerve in his fortunes, looked -something more of a man. His cheeks had -more colour and his eye-belongings less. -He held himself erectly and talked well. -Augusta bored him hideously, but he reflected -that a Duke need see little of his -Duchess, and filled his present <i>rôle</i> creditably. -Fletcher Cuyler as usual was the life -of the company, and even Augusta forgot -to be intellectual.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</span></p> - -<p>A theatre party followed the dinner. Augusta -returned to the hotel a little after -midnight. As she opened the door of the -private drawing-room of Mrs. Forbes’ suite, -she saw with surprise that her mother was -sitting by one of the tables.</p> - -<p>“I thought you were in bed with a -headache,” she began, and then uttered an -exclamation of alarm and went hastily forward.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Forbes, as white as the dead, her -hair unbound and dishevelled, her eyes -swollen, sat with clenched hands pressed -hard against her cheeks.</p> - -<p>“Mother!” exclaimed Augusta. “You—you -look terribly. How you must have -suffered. Has the pain gone?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, the pain has gone.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I am glad you are better——”</p> - -<p>“It will be a long while before I am better. -Oh, I want your father! Cable to him!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</span> -Go for him! Do anything, only bring him -here.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll cable this minute if you are really -ill. But what is the matter?”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Forbes muttered something. Augusta -bent her ear. “What?” she asked. Her -mother repeated what she had said. As -Augusta lifted her head her face was scarlet.</p> - -<p>“Gracious goodness!” she ejaculated. -“Who would ever have thought of such a -thing?” She walked aimlessly to the window, -then returned to her mother. “Well,” -she added, “it’s nothing to be so upset -about. It isn’t as if it were your first. -And papa will be delighted.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Forbes flung her arms over the table, -her head upon them, and burst into wild -sobbing.</p> - -<p>“Good heavens, mother, don’t take on -so,” cried her daughter. “What good -could papa do if he were here? I hope<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</span> -I’ll never have a baby if it affects one like -that.”</p> - -<p>She hovered over her mother, much embarrassed. -She was not heartless and would -have been glad to relieve her distress; but -inasmuch as she was incapable of such distress -herself she comprehended not the -least of what possessed her mother. She -took refuge upon the plane where she was -ever at home.</p> - -<p>“I have always said,” she announced, -“that it is not a good thing for American -men to spoil their wives as they do, and -particularly as papa spoils you. Here you -are in the most ordinary predicament that -can befall a woman, and yet you are utterly -demoralized because he is not here -to pet you and make you think you are -the only woman that ever had a baby. -And upon my word,” she added reflectively, -“I believe he would be perfectly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</span> -happy if he were here. I can just see the -fuss he would make over you——”</p> - -<p>Here her mother’s sobs became so violent -that she was roused to genuine concern.</p> - -<p>“I’ll cable at once,” she said. “But what -shall I cable? I don’t know how to intimate -such a thing, and I certainly can’t -say it right out.”</p> - -<p>“I will write. Give me the things.” -Mrs. Forbes raised her disfigured face and -pushed back her hair. “It will make me -feel better. Of course you cannot cable -without alarming him, and he has had -enough.”</p> - -<p>Augusta brought the writing materials -with alacrity. Mrs. Forbes wrote two lines. -The tears splashed on the paper.</p> - -<p>“Those will look like real tears,” said -Augusta reassuringly. “Once I helped -Mabel write a letter breaking off an engagement,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</span> -and she sprinkled it with the -hair-brush. I am sure he must have guessed. -Here, I’ll send it right away, and then -you’ll feel better.”</p> - -<p>She summoned a bell-boy and dispatched -the letter. “There!” she said, patting her -mother’s head. “He’ll be sure to come -over now, and all will go as merry as a -marriage-bell—my marriage-bell. Tell me, -mamma, don’t you feel that this is a -special little intervention of Providence to -bring things about just as we want them? -Aren’t you glad that this is the end of -doubt and worry, and that you can keep -your houses and lovely jewels?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” said Mrs. Forbes wearily. -“I want nothing but my husband.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> week passed. No cable came from -Mr. Forbes. His wife did not admit further -disquiet. She knew his pride. He would -come, but not with the appearance of hastening -to her at the first excuse.</p> - -<p>She went out as much as she could—filled -every moment. A part of the trousseau arrived, -and there were many things to be -bought in London.</p> - -<p>She needed all the distraction she could -devise. Impatience and longing, regret and -loneliness crouched at the four corners of her -mind, ready to spring the moment her will relaxed. -The gloomy skies contributed their -quota. She was home-sick for the blue and -white, the electric atmosphere of New York.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</span> -Nevertheless, when she was surrounded by -admirers, during the hours wherein she was -reminded that her haughty little head was -among the stars, she was content, and had no -thought of retreat.</p> - -<p>The letter had left England on a Saturday. -She reckoned that her husband would not -receive it until the following Monday week. -Making allowance for all delays, he could -take the steamer that left New York on -Wednesday.</p> - -<p>On the Wednesday of the week succeeding -she remained in her rooms all day. The time -came and passed for the arrival of passengers -by the “Cunard” line; but her husband had a -strong preference for the “American,” and she -had made up her mind not to expect him before -a quarter to nine in the evening—a slight -break in the <i>St. Paul’s</i> machinery had delayed -its arrival several hours.</p> - -<p>She was nervous and excited. Augusta<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</span> -left the hotel and declared that she should not -return until the “meeting was quite over.” -For the last week Mrs. Forbes had been -haunted by visions of shipwreck, fire at sea, -and sudden death. In these last hours she -walked the floor torn by doubts of another nature. -Suppose her husband would not forgive -her, was disgusted, embittered? She had -every reason to think that she had deep and -intimate knowledge of him; but she knew -that people had lived together for forty years -before some crook of Circumstance had revealed -the dormant but virile poison of their -natures. Was bitter pride her husband’s? -For the first time she wished that she had -never seen the Duke of Bosworth—retreated -before the ambitions of a lifetime in detestation -and terror. Every part of her concentrated -into longing for the man who had made the -happiness of her life. She even wished passionately -that she had never had a daughter<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</span> -to come between them, and with curious -feminism loved the baby that was coming the -more.</p> - -<p>She went to the mirror and regarded herself -anxiously. When in society, excitement -gave her all her old rich vital beauty, but the -reaction left her pale and dull. Would he find -her faded? He had worshipped her beauty, -and she would rather have walked out from -wealth into poverty than have discovered a -wrinkle or a grey hair. But she looked very -lovely. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes -sparkling. Her warm soft hair when hanging -always enriched her beauty. She wore an -Empire gown of pale pink satin cut in a high -square about the throat.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I look pretty enough,” she thought. -“If he would only come!”</p> - -<p>For the twentieth time she went to the -clock. It was a few minutes to eight The -train was due at twenty minutes past. He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</span> -should be at the hotel by a quarter to nine at -latest.</p> - -<p>The next hour was the longest of her life. -She assured herself that if there was such a -result as retributive justice in this world it beat -upon her in a fiery rain during those crab-like -moments. There was nothing to momentarily -relieve the tension, no seconds of expectation, -of hope. The roll of cabs in the street was -incessant. The corridors of the hotel were so -thickly carpeted that she could not hear a foot-fall. -Her very hands shook, but she dared not -take an anodyne lest she should not be herself -when he came.</p> - -<p>She tried to recall the few quarrels of her -engagement and their perturbing effect. They -were such pale wraiths before this agitation, -following years of intense living, and quicked -with the full knowledge of the great possession -she may have tossed to Memory, that -they dissolved upon evocation. She sprang to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</span> -her feet again to pace the room. At that -moment the door opened and her husband -entered.</p> - -<p>She had purposed to captivate him anew -with her beauty, to shed several tears, perhaps, -but not enough to blister and inflame. -She flew across the room and flung herself -about his neck and deluged his face with tears, -as she sobbed, and kissed him, and protested, -and besought forgiveness.</p> - -<p>His face had been stern as he entered. -Although the appeal of her letter was irresistible, -he had no intention of capitulating without -reserves; but no man that loved a woman -could be proof against such an outburst of feeling -and affection, and in a moment he was -pressing her in his arms and kissing her.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> next morning Mr. Forbes had an interview -with Augusta.</p> - -<p>“I don’t choose to discuss this matter of -your engagement with your mother,” he said, -“so we will come to an understanding at -once, if you please. Are you determined to -marry this man, to take your mother’s -property in case I continue to refuse my -consent?”</p> - -<p>“Papa! What else can I do? The invitations -are out. We should be the laughingstock -of two continents. Besides, I am -convinced that Bertie is the one man I -shall ever want to marry, and I cannot give -him up.”</p> - -<p>“Very well. You and your mother have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</span> -beaten me. Fortunately, you are better able -to stand the consequences of your acts than -most women. I doubt if you will ever realize -them. I have an attorney here. He will confer -with the Duke’s attorneys to-morrow. -Only, be good enough to arrange matters so -that I shall see as little as possible of your -Duke between now and the wedding. Your -mother and I shall return to America the day -after the ceremony.”</p> - -<p>As Mr. Forbes left the room Augusta -thoughtfully arranged the chiffon on the front -of her blouse.</p> - -<p>“Even a big man,” she reflected, “a great -big man, a man who can make Presidents of -the United States, has no chance in the hands -of two determined women. We are quite -dangerous when we know our power.”</p> - -<p>She added after a moment:</p> - -<p>“How gracefully he gave in. Dear papa! -But that is the American of it. We never<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</span> -sulk. We lose our temper. We come down -with both feet. We even kick hard and -long when we want or don’t want a thing -badly. But when we find that it’s all no -use, I flatter myself that we know how to -climb down.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> next two weeks flashed by. Besides -the accumulating details there were two -visits to country houses and a daily breakfast -or dinner. Mr. Forbes, who had many -friends in London, had no time to be -bored. Mrs. Forbes was happy and triumphant. -Augusta’s serene components pleasurably -oscillated.</p> - -<p>The wedding was very brilliant, but not -gorgeous. Mrs. Forbes was far too clever -to give society and the press an excuse to -sneer at the “vulgar display of American -dollars.” St. George’s was decorated with -sufficient lavishness to make it appear a -bower of delight after the drive through -rain and mud, but suggested to no mind -the possible cost.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</span></p> - -<p>Royalty came from Cannes. The church -was crowded to the doors with the best -blood in England. The dowager duchess, -a stout plainly-garbed old lady, sat with -her daughters and grandchildren. She -looked placid and rather sleepy. Mrs. -Forbes, who was gowned in violet velvet -with a point lace vest of new device, was -flanked by her husband’s relatives and the -United States Embassy. Augusta, in a -magnificent bridal robe of satin and lace -and pearls, her severely-cut features softened -by the white mist of her veil, looked -stately and imposing. The maidens who -flanked her were not the friends of her -youth, but their names were writ in the -style of chivalry, and Augusta’s equanimity -was independent of sentiment. The -Duke’s bump of benevolence was on a -level with her small well-placed ear, but -he also looked his best.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</span></p> - -<p>As Mrs. Forbes listened to the words -which affiliated her with several of the -greatest houses in the history of Europe, -she thrilled with gratified ambition and the -more strictly feminine pleasure of having -her own way. Suddenly her glance rested -on her husband. He stood with his arms -folded, his eyes lowered, an expression of -bitter defeat on his face.</p> - -<p>The blood dropped from her cheeks to -her heart; the rosy atmosphere turned grey. -“He says that he has forgiven me,” she -thought. “Has he? Has he? But I will -make him! Any impressions can be effaced -with time and persistence, and others that -are ever present.”</p> - -<p>After the ceremony there was a breakfast -at the Embassy. Only the members of the -two families, the few intimate friends, and -the bridesmaids were present. The company -was barely seated when Fletcher<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</span> -Cuyler rose, leaned his finger tips lightly -on the table and glanced about with his -affable and impish grin.</p> - -<p>“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention if -you please,” he commanded. “I wish the -individually expressed thanks of each member -of this assemblage. Not for being the -happy instrument in bringing this auspicious -marriage about—although I confess the -imputation—but for a more immediate benefit, -one which I have conferred equally -upon each of you, and upon the many -hundreds who were so fortunate as to witness -the ceremony which bound together -two of the most distinguished families of -America and Great Britain. I allude to the -wedding-march. You doubtless noticed that -it was played as it should be, as it rarely -is. I have attended twenty-two weddings -in St. George’s——”</p> - -<p>“Sit down, Fletcher,” said the First Secretary<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</span> -impatiently. “What are you talking -about? Do kindly take a back seat for -once.”</p> - -<p>“On the contrary, I am entitled to a -high chair in the front row. I played -that march. You do not believe me? Ask -the organist—when he is able to articulate. -He is red-hot and speechless at present. -I calmly approached him as he was pulling -out his cuffs, and said: ‘Young man’ -(he is venerable, but I too am bald), -‘move aside if you please. I am to play -this wedding-march. The Duke of Bosworth -is my particular friend. It is my way -of giving him good luck. At once. There -is the signal.’ I fancy I hypnotized him. -He slid off the stool mechanically. I lost -no time taking his place. When he had -recovered and was threatening police I was -playing as even I had never played before. -That is all.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</span></p> - -<p>Everybody laughed, the Duke more -heartily than anyone. Fletcher was one of -the few of life’s gifts for which he was -consistently thankful.</p> - -<p>“You shall come with us to-day,” he -said, delighted with the sudden inspiration; -and Fletcher, who had intended to go -whether he was invited or not, graciously -accepted.</p> - -<p>The breakfast party was informal and -gay. Toasts were given and the responses -clever. Even Mr. Forbes, who had no idea -of being a death’s head at a feast, forced -himself into his best vein.</p> - -<p>The Duke drank a good deal of wine -and said little. He was, on the whole, -well content. Mr. Forbes had handed over -two hundred thousand pounds with which -to repair Aire Castle, and settled the income -of eight hundred thousand pounds on -the young people, the principal to go to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</span> -their children. The Duke reflected gratefully -that he should have no cause to be -ashamed of his bride. She was not beautiful, -but even his relatives had approved of -her manners and style. He forgave her for -having bored him, for she had brought -him a certain peace of mind; and she -should have as many M.P.’s to talk political -economy to as she (or they) listed. -He would talk to Fletcher, and others.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Forbes had her especial toasts. -Even here, at this anti-climax dear to the -heart of a bride, she was the personage. -She looked regal and surpassing fair, for -her eyes were very soft; and she had -never been happier of speech. The Duke, -who admired her with what enthusiasm -was left in him, proposed a toast to -which the Ambassador himself responded.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> it was over and Mr. Forbes and -his wife had returned to the hotel, she -put her hands on his shoulders and looked -him in the eyes.</p> - -<p>“Tell me,” she said imperiously; “have -you really forgiven me? I have almost -been sure at times that you had. I have -felt it. But you have not been quite your -old dear self. I want to hear you say -again that you forgive me, and it is the -last time that I shall refer to the subject.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said, adjusting a lock that -had fallen over her ear, “I have forgiven -you, of course. We are to live the rest -of our lives together. I am not so unwise,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</span> -I hope, as to nurse offended pride and resentment.”</p> - -<p>The colour left her face. She came -closer.</p> - -<p>“Tell me!” she said, her voice vibrating. -“Won’t it ever be quite the same -again? Is that what you mean?”</p> - -<p>He took her in his arms and laid his -cheek against hers. “Oh, I don’t know,” -he said, “I don’t know.”</p> - -<p class="center no-indent">THE END.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="adblock"><div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph2">D. APPLETON & COMPANY’S PUBLICATIONS.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="ph3">RUDYARD KIPLING’S NEW BOOK.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>T</i></span><i>HE SEVEN SEAS.</i> A new volume of poems by -<span class="smcap">Rudyard Kipling</span>, author of “Many Inventions,” “Barrack-Room -Ballads,” etc. 12mo. 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Throughout they are instinct with the -qualities which are essentially his, and which have made, and seem likely -to keep, for him his position and wide popularity.”—<i>London Times.</i></p> - -<p>“He has the very heart of movement, for the lack of which no metrical -science could atone. He goes far because he can.”—<i>London Academy.</i></p> - -<p>“‘The Seven Seas’ is the most remarkable book of verse that Mr. -Kipling has given us. Here the human sympathy is broader and deeper, -the patriotism heartier and fuller, in the intellectual and spiritual insight -keener, the command of the literary vehicle more complete and sure than -in any previous verse-work by the author. The volume pulses with power—power -often rough and reckless with expression, but invariably conveying -the effect intended. 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The surpassing strength, the almost violent originality, -the glorious swish and swing of his lines—all are there in increased measure.... -The book is a marvel of originality and genius—a brand-new -landmark in the history of English letters.”—<i>Chicago Tribune.</i></p> - -<p>“In ‘The Seven Seas’ are displayed all of Kipling’s prodigious gifts.... -Whoever reads ‘The Seven Seas’ will be vexed by the desire to -read it again. The average charm of the gifts alone is irresistible.”—<i>Boston -Journal.</i></p></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="adblock"><div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph3">MISS F. F. MONTRÉSSOR’S BOOKS.</p></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>F</i></span><i>ALSE COIN OR TRUE?</i> 16mo. Cloth, $1.25.</p> - -<p>“One of the true novels of the day.... 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The -author shows a marvelous keenness in character analysis, and a marked -ingenuity in the development of her story.”—<i>Boston Advertiser.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>I</i></span><i>NTO THE HIGHWAYS AND HEDGES.</i> 12mo. -Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00</p> - -<p>“A touch of idealism, of nobility of thought and purpose, mingled with -an air of reality and well-chosen expression, are the most notable features of -a book that has not the ordinary defects of such qualities. With all its elevation -of utterance and spirituality of outlook and insight it is wonderfully -free from overstrained or exaggerated matter, and it has glimpses of humor. -Most of the characters are vivid, yet there are restraint and sobriety -in their treatment, and almost all are carefully and consistently evolved.”—<i>London -Athenænum.</i></p> - -<p>“‘Into the Highways and Hedges’ is a book not of promise only, but -of high achievement. It is original, powerful, artistic, humorous. It places -the author at a bound in the rank of those artists to whom we look for the -skillful presentation of strong personal impressions of life and character.”—<i>London -Daily News.</i></p> - -<p>“The pure idealism of ‘Into the Highways and Hedges’ does much to -redeem modern fiction from the reproach it has brought upon itself.... The -story is original, and told with great refinement.”—<i>Phila. Public Ledger.</i></p></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="adblock"><div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph3">GILBERT PARKER’S BEST BOOKS.</p></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>T</i></span><i>HE SEATS OF THE MIGHTY.</i> Being the Memoirs -of Captain <span class="smcap">Robert Moray</span>, sometime an Officer in the -Virginia Regiment, and afterwards of Amherst’s Regiment. -12 mo. 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It is -so good that we do not stop to think of its literature, and the personality of -Doltaire is a masterpiece of creative art.”—<i>New York Mail and Express.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>T</i></span><i>HE TRAIL OF THE SWORD.</i> A Novel. 12mo. -Paper, 50 cents; cloth $1.00.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Parker here adds to a reputation already wide, and anew demonstrates -his power of pictorial portrayal and of strong dramatic situation and -climax.”—<i>Philadelphia Bulletin.</i></p> - -<p>“The tale holds the reader’s interest from first to last, for it is full of -fire and spirit, abounding in incident, and marked by good character-drawing.”—<i>Pittsburg -Times.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>T</i></span><i>HE TRESPASSER.</i> 12 mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, -$1.00.</p> - -<p>“Interest, pith, force, and charm—Mr. Parker’s new story possesses all -these qualities.... 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We read at times—as we have read the -great masters of romance—breathlessly.”—<i>The Critic.</i></p> - -<p>“Gilbert Parker writes a strong novel, but thus far this is his masterpiece.... -It is one of the great novels of the year.”—<i>Boston Advertiser.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>T</i></span><i>HE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE.</i> 16mo. -Flexible cloth, 75 cents.</p> - -<p>“A book which no one will be satisfied to put down until the end has -been a matter of certainty and assurance.”—<i>The Nation.</i></p> - -<p>“A book of remarkable interest, originality, and ingenuity of construction.”—<i>Boston -Home Journal.</i></p></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="adblock"><div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph3">“A better book than ‘The Prisoner of Zenda.’”—<i>London Queen.</i></p></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>T</i></span><i>HE CHRONICLES OF COUNT ANTONIO.</i> By -<span class="smcap">Anthony Hope</span>, author of “The God in the Car,” “The -Prisoner of Zenda,” etc. With photogravure Frontispiece -by S. W. Van <span class="smcap">Schaick</span>. Third edition. 12mo. Cloth, -$1.50.</p> - -<p>“No adventures were ever better worth recounting are those of -Antonio of Monte Velluto, a very Bayard among outlaws.... To all -those whose pulses still stir at the recital of deeds of high courage, we may -recommend this book.... The chronicle conveys the emotion of heroic -adventure, and is picturesquely written.”—<i>London Daily News.</i></p> - -<p>“It has literary merits all its own, of a deliberate and rather deep -order.... In point of execution ‘The Chronicles of Count Antonio’ is -the best work that Mr. Hope has yet done. The design is clearer, the -workmanship more elaborate, the style more colored.... The incidents -are most ingenious, they are told quietly, but with great cunning, and the -Quixotic sentiment which pervades it all is exceedingly pleasant.”—<i>Westminster -Gazette.</i></p> - -<p>“A romance worthy of all the expectations raised by the brilliancy of -his former books, and likely to be read with a keen enjoyment and a -healthy exaltation of the spirits by every one who takes it up.”—<i>The -Scotsman.</i></p> - -<p>“A gallant tale written with unfailing freshness and spirit.”—<i>London -Daily Telegraph.</i></p> - -<p>“One of the most fascinating romances written in English within -many days. The quaint simplicity of its style is delightful, and the adventures -recorded in these ‘Chronicles of Count Antonio’ are as stirring and ingenious -as any conceived even by Weyman at his best.”—<i>New York -World.</i></p> - -<p>“Romance of the real flavor, wholly and entirely romance, and narrated -in true romantic style. The characters, drawn with such masterly handling, -are not merely pictures and portraits, but statues that are alive and step -boldly from the canvas.”—<i>Boston Courier.</i></p> - -<p>“Told in a wonderfully simple and direct style, and with the magic -touch of a man who has the genius of narrative, making the varied incidents -flow naturally and rapidly in a stream of sparkling discourse.”—<i>Detroit -Tribune.</i></p> - -<p>“Easily ranks with, if not above, ‘A Prisoner of Zenda.’... Wonderfully -strong, graphic, and compels the interest of the most <i>blasé</i> novel -reader.”—<i>Boston Advertiser.</i></p> - -<p>“No adventures were ever better worth telling than those of Count -Antonio.... The author knows full well how to make every pulse thrill, -and how to hold his readers under the spell of his magic.”—<i>Boston Herald.</i></p> - -<p>“A book to make women weep proud tears, and the blood of men to -tingle with knightly fervor.... In ‘Count Antonio’ we think Mr. Hope -surpasses himself, as he has already surpassed all the other story-tellers of -the period.”—<i>New York Spirit of the Times.</i></p></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="adblock"><div class="chapter"> -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>T</i></span><i>HE REDS OF THE MIDI.</i> An Episode of the -French Revolution. BY <span class="smcap">Félix Gras</span>. Translated from -the Provençal by Mrs. <span class="smcap">Catharine A. Janvier</span>. With an -Introduction by <span class="smcap">Thomas A. Janvier</span>. With Frontispiece. -12 mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p></div> - -<p>“It is doubtful whether in the English language we have had a more -powerful, impressive, artistic picture of the French Revolution, from the -revolutionist’s point of view, than that in Félix Gras’s ‘The -Reds of the Midi.’... Adventures follow one another rapidly; splendid, -brilliant pictures are frequent, and the thread of a tender, beautiful love -story winds in and out of its pages.”—<i>New York Mail and Express.</i></p> - -<p>“‘The Reds of the Midi’ is a red rose from Provence, a breath of -pure air in the stifling atmosphere of present-day romance—a stirring narrative -of one of the most picturesque events of the Revolution. It is told -with all the strength of simplicity and directness; it is warm and pulsating, -and fairly trembles with excitement.”—<i>Chicago Record.</i></p> - -<p>“To the names Dickens, Hugo, and Erckmann-Chatrian must be -added that of Félix Gras, as a romancer who has written a tale of the -French Revolution not only possessing historical interest, but charming as -a story. A delightful piece of literature, of a rare and exquisite flavor.”—<i>Buffalo -Express.</i></p> - -<p>“No more forcible presentation of the wrongs which the poorer classes -suffered in France at the end of the eighteenth century has ever been put -between the covers of a book.”—<i>Boston Budget.</i></p> - -<p>“Every page is alive with incidents or scenes of the time, and any one -who reads it will get a vivid picture that can never be forgotten of the -Reign of Terror in Paris.”—<i>San Francisco Chronicle.</i></p> - -<p>“The author has a rare power of presenting vivid and lifelike pictures. -He is a true artist.... His warm, glowing, Provençal imagination sees -the tremendous battalion of death even as the no less warm and glowing -imagination of Carlyle saw it.”—<i>London Daily Chronicle.</i></p> - -<p>“Of ‘The Reds of the Midi’ itself is safe to predict that the story will -become one of the most widely popular stories of the next few months. It -certainly deserves such appreciative recognition, for it throbs with vital interest -in every line.... The characters are living, stirring, palpitating -human beings, who will glow in the reader’s memory long after he has -turned over the last pages of this remarkably fascinating book.”—<i>London -Daily Mail.</i></p> - -<p>“A charmingly told story, and all the more delightful because of the -unstudied simplicity of the spokesman, Pascalet. Félix Gras is a true -artist, and he has pleaded the cause of a hated people with the tact and skill -that only an artist could employ.”—<i>Chicago Evening Post.</i></p> - -<p>“Much excellent revolutionary fiction in many languages has been written -since the announcement of the expiration of 1889, or rather since the -contemporary publication of old war records newly discovered, but there is -none more vivid than this story of the men of the south, written by one of their -own blood.”—<i>Boston Herald.</i></p></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="adblock"><div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph3">BY S. R. CROCKETT.</p></div> - -<p class="center no-indent">Uniform edition. Each, 12mo. cloth, $1.50.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>L</i></span><i>ADS’ LOVE.</i> Illustrated.</p> - -<p>In this fresh and charming story, which in some respects recalls -“The Lilac Sunbonnet,” Mr. Crockett returns to Galloway and pictures -the humor and pathos of the life of the city he knows so well.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>C</i></span><i>LEG KELLY, ARAB OF THE CITY. His Progress -and Adventures.</i> Illustrated.</p> - -<p>“A masterpiece which Mark Twain himself has never rivaled.... If -there ever was an ideal character in fiction it is this heroic ragamuffin.”—<i>London -Daily Chronicle.</i></p> - -<p>“In no one of his books does Mr. Crockett give us a brighter or more -graphic picture of contemporary Scotch life than in ‘Cleg Kelly.’... -It it one of the great books.”—<i>Boston Daily Advertiser.</i></p> - -<p>“One of the most successful of Mr. Crockett’s works.”—<i>Brooklyn Eagle.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>B</i></span><i>OG-MYRTLE AND PEAT.</i> Third edition.</p> - -<p>“Here are idyls, epics, dramas of human life, written in words that -thrill and burn.... Each is a poem that has an immortal flavor. They are -fragments of the author’s early dreams, too bright, too gorgeous, too full of -the blood of rubies and the life of diamonds to be caught and held palpitating -in expression’s grasp.”—<i>Boston Courier.</i></p> - -<p>“Hardly a sketch among them all that will not afford pleasure to the -reader for its genial humor, artistic local coloring, and admirable portrayal -of character.”—<i>Boston Home Journal.</i></p> - -<p>“One dips into the book anywhere and reads on and on, fascinated by -the writer’s charm of manner.”—<i>Minneapolis Tribune.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>T</i></span><i>HE LILAC SUNBONNET.</i> Eighth edition.</p> - -<p>“A love story pure and simple, one of the old-fashioned, wholesome, -sunshiny kind, with a pure-minded, sound-hearted hero, and a heroine -who is merely a good and beautiful woman; and if any other love story half -so sweet has been written this year, it has escaped our notice.”—<i>New York -Times.</i></p> - -<p>“The general conception of the story, the motive of which is the growth -of love between the young chief and heroine, is delineated with a sweetness -and a freshness, a naturalness and a certainty which places ‘The Lilac -Sunbonnet’ among the best stories of the time.”—<i>New York Mail and -Express.</i></p> - -<p>“In its own line this little love story can hardly be excelled. It is a -pastoral, an idyl—the story of love and courtship and marriage of a fine -young man and a lovely girl—no more. But it is told in so thoroughly delightful -a manner, with such playful humor, such delicate fancy, such true -and sympathetic feeling, that nothing more could be desired.”—<i>Boston -Traveller.</i></p></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="adblock"><div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph3 nobreak center"><span class="smcap">By</span> A. CONAN DOYLE.</p></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center no-indent">Uniform edition. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50 per volume.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>R</i></span><i>ODNEY STONE</i>. Illustrated.</p> - -<p>“A remarkable book, worthy of the pen that gave us ‘The White -Company,’ ‘Micah Clarke,’ and other notable romances.”—<i>London Daily -News.</i></p> - -<p>“A notable and very brilliant work of genius.”—<i>London Speaker.</i></p> - -<p>“‘Rodney Stone’ is, in our judgment, distinctly the best of Dr. Conan -Doyle’s novels.... There are few descriptions in fiction that can vie with -that race upon the Brighton road.”—<i>London Times.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>T</i></span><i>HE EXPLOITS OF BRIGADIER GERARD. -A Romance of the Life of a Typical Napoleonic Soldier.</i> Illustrated.</p> - -<p>“The brigadier is brave, resolute, amorous, loyal, chivalrous; never -was a foe more ardent in battle, more clement in victory, or more ready -at need.... Gallantry, humor, gayety, moving incident, make up a really -delightful book.”—<i>London Times.</i></p> - -<p>“May be set down days without reservation as the most thoroughly -enjoyable book that Dr. Doyle has ever published.”—<i>Boston -Beacon.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>T</i></span><i>HE STARK MUNRO LETTERS.</i> -Being a Series of Twelve Letters written by <span class="smcap">Stark Munro</span>, M. B., -to his friend and former fellow-student, Herbert Swanborough, of -Lowell, Massachusetts, during the years 1881-1884. Illustrated.</p> - -<p>“Cullingworth, ... a much more interesting creation than Sherlock -Holmes, and I pray Dr. Doyle to give us more of him.”—<i>Richard le -Gallienne, in the London Star.</i></p> - -<p>“One of the freshest figures to be met with in any recent -fiction.”—<i>London Daily News.</i></p> - -<p>“‘The Stark Munro Letters’ is a bit of real literature.... Its reading -will be an epoch-making event in many a life.”—<i>Philadelphia Evening -Telegraph.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>R</i></span><i>OUND THE RED LAMP.</i> -Being Facts and Fancies of Medical Life.</p> - -<p>“Too much cannot be said in praise of these strong productions, that, -to read, keep one’s heart leaping to the throat, and the mind in a -tumult of anticipation to the end.... No series of short stories in -modern can approach them.”—<i>Hartford Times.</i></p></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="adblock"><div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph3"><span class="smcap">Books by Mrs. Everard Cotes</span> (<span class="smcap">Sara Jeannette Duncan</span>).</p></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>H</i></span><i>IS HONOUR, AND A LADY.</i> Illustrated, 12mo. -Cloth, $1.50.</p> - -<p>“‘His Honour, and a Lady’ is a finished novel, colored with true local -dyes and instinct with the Anglo-Indian and pure Indian spirit, besides a -perversion by originality of created character and a crisp way of putting -things.”—<i>Chicago Times-Herald.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>T</i></span><i>HE STORY OF SONNY SAHIB.</i> Illustrated. -12mo. Cloth, $1.00.</p> - -<p>“As perfect a story of its kind as can be imagined.”—<i>Chicago Times-Herald.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>V</i></span><i>ERNON’S AUNT.</i> With many Illustrations. 12mo. -Cloth, $1.25.</p> - -<p>“A most vivid and realistic impression of certain phases of life in -India, and no one can read her vivacious chronicle without indulging in -many a hearty laugh.”—<i>Boston Beacon.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>A</i></span><i> DAUGHTER OF TO-DAY.</i> A Novel. 12mo. -Cloth, $1.50.</p> - -<p>“This novel is a strong and serious piece of work; one of a kind that -is getting too rare in these days of universal crankiness.”—<i>Boston Courier.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>A</i></span><i> SOCIAL DEPARTURE: How Orthodocia and I -Went Round the World by Ourselves.</i> With 111 Illustrations -by <span class="smcap">F. H. Townsend</span>, 12mo. Paper, 75 cents; -cloth $1.75.</p> - -<p>“A brighter, merrier, more entirely charming book would be, indeed, -difficult to find.”—<i>St. Louis Republic.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>A</i></span><i>N AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON.</i> With 80 -Illustrations by <span class="smcap">F. H. Townsend</span>, 12mo. Paper, 75 -cents; cloth, $1.50.</p> - -<p>“So sprightly a book as this, on life in London observed by an -American, has never before been written.”—<i>Philadelphia Bulletin.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap"><i>T</i></span><i>HE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEMSAHIB.</i> -With 37 Illustrations by <span class="smcap">F. H. Townsend</span>. -12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p> - -<p>“It is like traveling without leaving one’s armchair to read it. Miss -Duncan has the descriptive and narrative gift in large measure, and she -brings vividly before us the street scenes, the interiors, the bewilderingly -queer natives, the gayeties of the English colony.”—<i>Phila. Telegraph.</i></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center no-indent">New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.</p></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="transnote"> -<p class="center no-indent"><span class="smcap">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</span></p> - -<p>—Gossipping, on page 13, has been changed to gossiping.</p> - -<p>—All other hyphenation and variant/archaic spelling has been retained -as typeset.</p></div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HIS FORTUNATE GRACE ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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