ed, but also that she made
allowances. "I go by my impression. But Lord Petherton HAS spoken for
him."

"He ought to do that," said Mrs. Brookenham--"since he wholly lives on
him."

"Lord Petherton--on Mr. Mitchett?" The Duchess stared, but rather in
amusement than in horror. "Why, hasn't he a--property?"

"The loveliest. Mr. Mitchett's his property. Didn't you KNOW?" There was
an artless wail in Mrs. Brookenham's surprise.

"How should I know--still a stranger as I'm often rather happy to feel
myself here and choosing my friends and picking my steps very much, I
can assure you--how should I know about all your social scandals and
things?"

"Oh we don't call THAT a social scandal!" Mrs. Brookenham inimitably
returned.

"Well, if you should wish to you'd have the way I tell you of to stop
it. Divert the stream of Mr. Mitchett's wealth."

"Oh there's plenty for every one!"--Mrs. Brookenham kept up her tone.
"He's always giving us things--bonbons and dinners and opera-boxes."

"He has never given ME any," the Duchess contentedly declared.

Mrs. Brookenham waited a little. "Lord Petherton has the giving of some.
He has never in his life before, I imagine, made so many presents."

"Ah then it's a shame one has nothing!" On which before reaching the
door, the Duchess changed the subject. "You say I never bring Aggie. If
you like I'll bring her back."

Mrs. Brookenham wondered. "Do you mean today?"

"Yes, when I've picked her up. It will be something to do with her till
Miss Merriman can take her."

"Delighted, dearest; do bring her. And I think she should SEE Mr.
Mitchett."

"Shall I find him here too then?"

"Oh take the chance."

The two women, on this, exchanged, tacitly and across the room--the
Duchess at the door, which a servant had arrived to open for her, and
Mrs. Brookenham still at her tea-table--a further stroke of intercourse,
over which the latter was not on this occasion the first to lower her
lids. "I think I've shown high scruples," the departing guest said, "but
I understand then that I'm free."

"Free as air, dear Jane."

"Good." Then just as she was off, "Ah dear old Edward!" the guest
exclaimed. Her kinsman, as she was fond of calling him, had reached the
top of the staircase, and Mrs. Brookenham, by the fire, heard them meet
on the landing--heard also the Duchess protest against his turning to
see her down. Mrs. Brookenham, listening to them, hoped Edward would
accept the protest