al Spanish dancer of parsimonious drapery. Whereupon the
rumors of Mrs. De Peyster's previously gossiped-of marriage with the
now notorious Duke were revived--by the subtle instigation, and as an
act of social warfare, so Mrs. De Peyster believed, of her aspiring
rival, Mrs. Allistair. And there was one faint rumor, still daringly
breathed around, that the Duke had proposed--had been accepted--had
run away: in blunt terms, had jilted Mrs. De Peyster.

"We will not speak of this again, Olivetta," Mrs. De Peyster remarked
with returning dignity, "but while the matter is up, I will mention
that the Duke did propose to me, and that I refused him."

With a gesture she silenced any comment from Olivetta. In a breath or
two she was entirely her usual poiseful self. Too many generations
had her blood been trained to ways of dignity, and too long had she
herself been drilled in composure and self-esteem and in a perfect
confidence in the thing that she was, for an invasion of newspaper
creatures to disturb her for longer than a few moments.

She was moving with stately tread toward the dining-room when Matilda
came hurrying up from the nether regions of the house. "Did you know,
ma'am," Matilda fluttered eagerly, "that Mr. Jack is home?"

"My son back!" There was vast relief in Mrs. De Peyster's voice. "When
did he come?"

"A few minutes ago."

"Did--did he say anything?"

"I haven't seen him, ma'am. He came in the back way, through the
stable. William told me about it."

Mrs. De Peyster's voice became composed, severe. "I shall see what he
has to say for himself." Majestically, somewhat ominously, she turned
and began to mount the stairs, followed by Olivetta and Matilda. But
as she passed the library's closed door, she heard Miss Gardner's
voice and a second voice--and the second voice was the voice of a man.

Startled, she paused. She caught a few fragments of phrases.
Indignation surged up within her. Resolutely she stepped to the door;
but by instinct she was no eavesdropper, and she would not come upon
people in compromising attitudes without giving them fair warning. So
she knocked, waited a moment--then opened the door and entered.

CHAPTER II

ENTER AN AMIABLE YOUNG GENTLEMAN

Half an hour earlier, across in Washington Square, a young gentleman
was sauntering about taking the crisp May air. He was fashionably but
quietly dressed, and in his chamois-gloved hand he swung a jaunty wand
of a cane; a s