what was
happening to her duke, she was too angry for words. Heavens, how
that woman did hate me that afternoon!

The next morning six more "Choicest Flowers" arrived from San
Francisco (rare orchids whose grandfathers had come over from
Ireland in the steerage). The third son of an English baronet who
owned a chicken-ranch near Los Angeles and a German count who sold
Rhine wines to the best families also appeared; for that night
Blakely's mother was to give such a dinner as had never before been
given in Santa Barbara.

Under the heading:

SANTA BARBARA NOW THE MOST COSMOPOLITAN CITY IN AMERICA

an enterprising Los Angeles newspaper devoted a whole page to the
coming event. Adjective was piled on adjective, split infinitive on
split infinitive. The dinner was to be given in the ballroom of the
hotel.... The bank accounts of the assembled guests would total
$400,000,000.... The terrapin had been specially imported from
Baltimore.... The decorations were to be magnificent beyond the
wildest dream.... The duke was to sit on the right of his
hostess.... Mr. Sanderson-Spear, the Pierpont Morgan of
Pennsylvania, who would arrive that morning from Pittsburg in his
private car, would sit on her left.... Count Boris Beljaski,
intimate friend and traveling companion of the grand duke, would
appear in the uniform of the imperial guard.... The Baroness
Reinstadt was hurrying from San Diego, in her automobile.... As a
winter resort, Santa Barbara was, as usual, eclipsing Florida,
etc., ... Blakely and I read the paper together; we laughed over it
till we cried.

"It would be lots funnier if it wasn't my mother who was making such
a holy show of herself," Blakely said. "Do you know, my dear--"

He was silent for a moment. When he did speak, there was a wicked
gleam in his eyes. "By Jove," he cried, "I'll do it!"

"Do what?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing much. I'll tell you all about it later--if there's
anything to tell. Now I must run away. Good-by, dear."

Chapter Nine

At a quarter to four I received a note from Blakely saying it would
be impossible for him to come in to tea as he had planned. It was
the first time he had ever broken an engagement with me, and I was a
wee bit unhappy over it, though I knew, of course, there must be
some good reason why he couldn't come. Still, his absence rather put
me out of humor with tea, so I sent Valentine for a box of
chocolates. When she returned I sat down with them and a