."

Margaret had quickly grasped the advantage to Claudius, if such a
voucher as the Duke offered were kept in pickle as a rod for his
enemies.

"You are right," said she, "I am a good friend of Dr. Claudius, and I
will keep the paper in case of need."

The Duke recovered his equanimity.

"Thank you," said he. "I am a very good friend of his, and I thank you
on his behalf, as I am sure he will himself. There's one of our Foreign
Office clerks here for his holiday; I will get him to draw up the paper
as he is an old friend of mine--in fact, some relation, I believe. By
Jove! there goes Barker." The latter exclamation was caused by the
sudden appearance of the man he named on the opposite side of the
avenue, in conversation with the two young gentlemen whom the Duke had
already noticed as preparing to mount their dogcart.

"Oh," said Margaret indifferently, in response to the exclamation.

"Yes," said the Duke, "it is he. I thought he was in New York."

"No," said the Countess, "he has just called. It was his card they
brought me just as you came. He wants me to drive with him this
afternoon."

"Indeed. Shall you go?"

"I think so--yes," said she.

"Very well. I will take my sister with me," said the Duke. "I have got
something very decent to drive in." Margaret laughed at the implied
invitation.

"How you take things for granted," said she. "Did you really think I
would have gone with you?"

"Such things have happened," said the Duke good-humouredly, and went
away. Not being in the least a ladies' man, he was very apt to make such
speeches occasionally. He had a habit of taking it for granted that no
one refused his invitations.

At four o'clock that afternoon Silas B. Barker junior drew up to the
steps of the hotel in a very gorgeous conveyance, called in America a
T-cart, and resembling a mail phaeton in build. From the high double box
Mr. Barker commanded and guided a pair of showy brown horses, harnessed
in the most approved philanthropic, or rather philozooic style; no
check-rein, no breeching, no nothing apparently, except a pole and Mr.
Barker's crest. For Mr. Barker had a crest, since he came from Salem,
Massachusetts, and the bearings were a witch pendant, gules, on a
gallows sinister, sable. Behind him sat the regulation clock-work groom,
brought over at considerable expense from the establishment of Viscount
Plungham, and who sprang to the ground and took his place at the horses'
heads as soo