shouldn't think a tremendous row was quite your game," said the
Honourable John Ruffin thoughtfully.

"Oh, _I'm_ not going to row. But you know what Caroline is: she can
have all the row there is to have, without any help from any one," said
the duke. "I'm just going to sit tight as wax and let her wear herself
out, if she does start rowing."

"That is undoubtedly the course for a man of sense to pursue," said the
Honourable John Ruffin in a tone of approval.

The duke was on tenterhooks the next day, for though he was braced for
the struggle with the duchess, he found the uncertainty when that
struggle would begin trying. Then he was taking his afternoon tea with
the Honourable John Ruffin on the cedar lawn; Ronald and Pollyooly
mindful of the cakes, had sociably joined them; and they were laughing
at a story the Honourable John Ruffin was telling them, when he stopped
short, staring at the entrance to the lawn. They turned to see the
duchess standing in it, and surveying them with the eyes of an avenging
angel.

[Illustration: They turned to see the Duchess]

They all rose; and the Honourable John Ruffin said calmly:

"How are you, Caroline? I suppose you motored down. Charming weather
for motoring."

"Very," said the duchess in a terrible voice. "And a charming
gathering I find at the end of it."

"Yes; sit down and have some tea. You must be thirsty," said the
Honourable John Ruffin.

"How are you, Caroline? Sit down and have some tea," said the duke,
seizing on the opening, in rather uncertain tones.

"Tea!" said the duchess, in a yet more terrible voice.

"And bread and butter," said the duke hastily.

"Do you think I came here to drink _tea_?" said the duchess in the tone
of one who had come to drink blood.

"A lemon squash then," said the duke hastily.

"I haven't come here to drink tea, or lemon squashes," said the
duchess. "I've come to learn what this means--to put an end to this
ridiculous farce?"

"Eh? What? What farce?" said the duke.

"This farcical substitution of this wicked child, Mary Bride, for
Marion," said the duchess, glaring at Pollyooly.

"But you're not going to do any substituting. I won't have it," said
the duke firmly.

"Me? It's you! You've done it already!" cried the duchess, with a
sudden note of astonishment in her voice.

The duke shook his head, and with a smile of superior knowledge said
firmly:

"It won't do, Caroline. It's no good your try