promenaded up and down and around the somewhat dingy gardens of which the sombre and blighted tone was in complete harmony with[38] his feelings. He could hear passers-by talking on the other side of the high wall which secluded his august pleasure-ground from the vulgar world, and wondered if, nay, made sure, they were discussing him and his methods in a spirit of galling irreverence, if they took their tone from that of the more enterprising journals he had read. Yes; it was an uncomfortable position for any one, let alone an old-established Duke; he became sure certain people were watching him from such upper windows as commanded a view of the grounds, since the wall of even an exclusive Duke is subject to certain architectural limitations; and he went indoors. On his way he saw people looking curiously through the great iron gates at the house of mystery and crime. He fancied he heard a murmur as he crossed their sight, but that was probably a symptom of hypertrophied egoism. In his perturbation of mind he flung himself into a room which he had intended to avoid, and found himself alone with the Duchess.

[38]

There was something in her eye which forbade retreat.

“Well?” The monosyllable was a challenge: more, it was the first flick of a castigation.

The Duke merely gave a shrug which was the most non-committal answer that occurred to him.

“What is the latest?” the Duchess demanded, in a tone which was not to be trifled with.

“I have heard nothing, dear. I have not been out.”

“I just saw you come in.”

“From the garden.”

“Why don’t you go out?”

The Duke made a stand. “I don’t care to, while this wretched business is in big letters at every corner.”

[39]“What is that to us? You should be above taking notice of these halfpenny rags. If you are afraid of walking on the pavements, have a brougham and drive down to the Carlton. You ought to hear what people are saying.”

[39]

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