to-morrow." The reply was a rather faint, "With pleasure." "Mrs. Verulam will give you our address—Belgrave Square. You can get a bus from the corner of Hamilton Place that will put you down at—oh, but of course that doesn't matter to you. I wish the Duke had an orange-grove. Good-bye, Mr. Ingerstall." She looked him over meditatively; then she said: "Perhaps you won't mind just coming out with us to hail a—thank you very much. Good-bye." She proceeded out of the room, followed by Lady Pearl and Mr. Ingerstall, the latter of whom turned sharply at the door to say to the tweed suit: "Very well, then; I'll come to-morrow morning to show you London, and increase your commendable love of Paris. Ah! when you see the mosaics—mercy on us!" He shot out of the room with his short arms raised towards heaven. A moment later they heard his voice piercingly hailing a bus outside for the Duchess. Meanwhile Mr. Rodney was being terribly de trop. Mrs. Verulam had now come to what is called the end of the tether. She wanted to bounce up from her sofa, take Mr. Rodney by the shoulders, thrust him forcibly[Pg 58] out of the house, and then go into violent hysterics. This was what she wanted to do. What she had to do was to sit quiet and see him becoming suspicious, and, finally, jealous of the tweed suit, which also wanted to go into hysterics. Mr. Rodney was considerably exercised, first by finding that he had apparently told a lie in the World, secondly, by being made suddenly aware that Mrs. Verulam had a male friend of whom she had never spoken to him, and, moreover, a friend so intimate that she summoned him from the orange-groves of Florida to stay alone with her in London, all divorced as he was. All this greatly perturbed him, and so soon as the Duchess was gone he promised himself the pleasure of probing, with his usual exquisite dexterity, into the problem so abruptly presented to him. He therefore sat tight, and began to look very observant. Mrs. Verulam was gripped by the cold hands of despair. She forced a faded smile. [Pg 58] "You mustn't forget your engagement at the Crystal Palace, Mr. Rodney," she said, with a terrible effort after sprightliness. Mr. Rodney grew wrinkled, a habit of his when forced into painful
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