merely been initiating him into the
mysteries of raising Leghorns."

Hexam looked stupefied, but Miss Thangue burst into a merry peal of
laughter.

"Isabel!" she exclaimed. "I begin to suspect you are a minx!"

And Isabel laughed, too, in sheer excess of animal spirits and gratified
vanity. She had excellent cause to remember the ebullition, for it was
some time before she laughed again.

The duchess, with her light sweet smile, her old-fashioned
Book-of-Beauty style, a certain affectation of shabbiness in her
black-and-silver gown, looked a more indispensable part of the picture
than any of her guests, as she stood in the middle of the great
drawing-room with a group of her more intimate friends. Among them was
Lady Victoria, more normal of mood this evening, sufficiently gracious,
superbly indifferent, although she had held her court as usual.

She tapped Isabel lightly on the cheek with her fan. "You were quite the
rage," she said. "I never should have forgiven you if you had not been."
And Isabel had not the slightest doubt of her sincerity.

The duchess, in the immensity of her castle, did not pretend to keep an
eye on any one, and would have been the last to suspect that Miss Otis
had inspired her husband with a sudden passion for chickens. She shook
hands approvingly with the young American and asked her to come over
informally to luncheon on the morrow.

"Is your head turning?" asked Miss Thangue, as they drove home. "You
must reap the results of your success; it would be a pity not to. After
a few weeks here with Vicky you must go on a round of visits and then
have a season in London."

"It would be glorious!" exclaimed Isabel, in whom problems were
moribund. "I certainly believe I shall."

She was in the second of the carriages to reach Capheaton, and Gwynne,
who was still standing on the steps, helped her down, and asked her
pleasantly if she had enjoyed herself.

"I had such a good time I know I sha'n't sleep a wink for twenty-four
hours. I believe I'll go to the library and get a book of yours I began
on Sunday--only--" She hesitated. A talk with this enigmatical cousin
would be a proper climax to the triumphs of the night. She raised her
eyes, full of flattering appeal. "There are one or two points I did not
quite understand--I have hesitated to go on--"

He too was wakeful, and rose to the bait promptly. "Suppose you give me
an hour by the empty hearth. Will you? Well, go on ahead and I'll f