-beginning in mystery, ending in mystery--the Dream Woman passes from
your view. Ghost; demon; or living human creature--say for yourselves
which she is. Or, knowing what unfathomed wonders are around you, what
unfathomed wonders are _in_ you, let the wise words of the greatest of all
poets be explanation enough:

"We are such stuff
As dreams are made of, and our little life
Is rounded with, a sleep."

Anonymous

_The Lost Duchess_

I

"Has the duchess returned?"

"No, your grace."

Knowles came farther into the room. He had a letter on a salver. When the
duke had taken it, Knowles still lingered. The duke glanced at him.

"Is an answer required?"

"No, your grace." Still Knowles lingered. "Something a little singular has
happened. The carriage has returned without the duchess, and the men say
that they thought her grace was in it."

"What do you mean?"

"I hardly understand myself, your grace. Perhaps you would like to see
Barnes."

Barnes was the coachman.

"Send him up." When Knowles had gone, and he was alone, his grace showed
signs of being slightly annoyed. He looked at his watch. "I told her she'd
better be in by four. She says that she's not feeling well, and yet one
would think that she was not aware of the fatigue entailed in having the
prince come to dinner, and a mob of people to follow. I particularly
wished her to lie down for a couple of hours."

Knowles ushered in not only Barnes, the coachman, but Moysey, the footman,
too. Both these persons seemed to be ill at ease. The duke glanced at them
sharply. In his voice there was a suggestion of impatience.

"What is the matter?"

Barnes explained as best he could.

"If you please, your grace, we waited for the duchess outside Cane and
Wilson's, the drapers. The duchess came out, got into the carriage, and
Moysey shut the door, and her grace said, 'Home!' and yet when we got home
she wasn't there."

"She wasn't where?"

"Her grace wasn't in the carriage, your grace."

"What on earth do you mean?"

"Her grace did get into the carriage; you shut the door, didn't you?"

Barnes turned to Moysey. Moysey brought his hand up to his brow in a sort
of military salute--he had been a soldier in the regiment in which, once
upon a time, the duke had been a subaltern.

"She did. The duchess came out of the shop. She seemed rather in a hurry,
I thought. She got into the carriage, and she said, 'Home, Moysey!'