"
There was the slightest touch of stiffness in Sir Wilfrid's tone, of
which the next moment he was ashamed. "I am very sorry to hear that Lady
Henry has grown so much more helpless since I left England."

"She has to be careful of fatigue. Two or three people go in to see her
at a time. She enjoys them more so."

"In my opinion," said Delafield, "one more device of milady's for
getting precisely what she wants."

The young man's gay undertone, together with the look which passed
between him and Mademoiselle Le Breton, added to Sir Wilfrid's stifled
feeling of surprise.

"You'll tell her, Jacob, that I'm here?" He turned abruptly to the young
man.

"Certainly--when mademoiselle allows me. Ah, here comes the Duchess!"
said Delafield, in another voice.

Mademoiselle Le Breton, who had moved a few steps away from the
stair-head with Sir Wilfrid Bury, turned hastily. A slight, small woman,
delicately fair and sparkling with diamonds, was coming up the
stairs alone.

"My dear," said the new-comer, holding out her hands eagerly to
Mademoiselle Le Breton, "I felt I must just run in and have a look at
you. But Freddie says that I've got to meet him at that tiresome Foreign
Office! So I can only stay ten minutes. How are you?"--then, in a lower
voice, almost a whisper, which, however, reached Sir Wilfrid Bury's
ears--"worried to death?"

Mademoiselle Le Breton raised eyes and shoulders for a moment, then,
smiling, put her finger to her lip.

"You're coming to me to-morrow afternoon?" said the Duchess, in the same
half-whisper.

"I don't think I can get away."

"Nonsense! My dear, you must have some air and exercise! Jacob, will you
see she comes?"

"Oh, I'm no good," said that young man, turning away. "Duchess, you
remember Sir Wilfrid Bury?"

"She would be an unnatural goddaughter if she didn't," said that
gentleman, smiling. "She may be your cousin, but I knew her before
you did."

The young Duchess turned with a start.

"Sir Wilfrid! A sight for sair een. When did you get back?"

She put her slim hands into both of his, and showered upon him all
proper surprise and the greetings due to her father's oldest friend.
Voice, gesture, words--all were equally amiable, well trained, and
perfunctory--Sir Wilfrid was well aware of it. He was possessed of a
fine, straw-colored mustache, and long eyelashes of the same color. Both
eyelashes and mustache made a screen behind which, as was well known,
their owner obs