of the party by the time that the champagne appeared with
the fish found that their tongues were loosened. The old Duke, who
always loved a pretty face and brilliant eyes, got on capitally with
Miss Windsor, and seemed to forget his fallen dignity and the mournful
face of his consort, as he said pretty things to the beautiful American.

"I had a great curiosity to see Mr. Windsor before I came here,"
whispered Mrs. Carey to Geoffrey. "He has a strong face, has he not?
They say that he is so rich that he does not know how much he is worth,
and that he has made all his money himself."

"I suppose that somebody has got all the money that we people in England
have lost or spent," she continued, with a woman's idea of political
economy. "Isn't it all dreadful? I suppose that you are a--What shall I
say, a guest?"

"Why should you not say a guest, since we certainly are at Mr. Windsor's
table?" he asked, as if innocently.

"Ah, you must know what I mean; one of Mr. Jawkins's list. Just think of
the poor Duke and Duchess being on it--the proudest family in England.
Did you ever hear of such a thing?"

"The aristocrats during the French Revolution were reduced to as
desperate shifts," answered Geoffrey. "We, at least, are not banished
from our country and can earn our living, if we choose, in the
old-fashioned way, by the sweat of our brows. I have been digging in my
vegetable garden this summer; you know that I have five acres left, and
what with fishing--and don't mention it, pray--a little poaching, I have
got along pretty well. I knew Mr. Windsor in Paris, when I was on the
Legation there."

"And you were put out of the service by that old brute, Bagshaw. What an
odious thing this Republican form of government is! You know poor Oswald
was in the Stamp and Sealing-wax Office. Oswald is a Legitimist, of
course, and would not pay the assessment which was levied upon him by
the Radical party, and he was ousted last spring."

"Is your husband here?"

"Oh, dear, no! They do not wish me if I take Oswald along with me. He is
in our lodgings in London. He quite misses the office in the daytime, as
he cannot sleep nearly so well at home. Poor Oswald! Mr. Sydney," she
said, turning to that gentleman, who had sat in silence at her side, "I
thought that you always kept the table in a roar?"

"How can a man do that when he is expected to," answered Sydney,
gloomily. "I am always saddest at dinner, for I know that I have been
a