l
was once more clearly presented to the Esmeralda, the attractions of
the Moldo-Wallachian faded as flowers fade in a drought."

"I'm glad she isn't going to marry a foreigner," said Pollyooly with
true patriotism.

"She would never be happy in Moldo-Wallachia," said the Honourable John
Ruffin with conviction.

"Oh, no, sir," said Pollyooly.

There was a pause; then he said:

"And how did you leave Mr. Vance?"

"Oh, he was all right, sir," said Pollyooly.

"Oh, he was, was he? Did you by any chance come across a young lady of
the name of Flossie while you were staying at Chelsea?"

"Yes, sir. But he doesn't have anything to do with her now, sir. He
goes past the shop with an air of cold dignity--he says he does; and
he's going to Scotland to wear a kilt to get quite cured--he says he
is," said Pollyooly quickly.

"It sounds most efficacious," said the Honourable John Ruffin. "But
how did it all happen?"

Pollyooly told the story of the intervention of Mr. Butterwick; and the
Honourable John Ruffin chuckled freely, for no reason that she could
see, as he listened to it. At the end of it he said sententiously:

"Well, all's well that ends well. These foreign countries are not
suited to English girls: Miss Flossie would never be happy in Bohemia."

The next morning, when she brought in his grilled bacon, he said that
they might now congratulate themselves on the prospect of leading their
quiet, industrious lives in peace for a while.

These congratulations, however, were premature, for only three days
later he was sitting in his rooms, having just come from the Law
Courts, where he had been acting as junior counsel in an awkward case,
and was bracing himself to the effort of getting himself his afternoon
tea, since Pollyooly had gone with the Lump to take the air in Hyde
Park.

Suddenly there came a sharp, hurried knocking on his outer door.

The Honourable John Ruffin raised his eyebrows, opened his eyes rather
wide, and said to his cigarette:

"A woman in distress, evidently. Who on earth can it be?"

He did not spring to his feet and dash to the door to offer instant aid
to the distressed one. He rose slowly and walked slowly to the door,
assuming slowly as he went an air of deep, but patient, resignation.

He opened the door gingerly. On the threshold stood the beautiful,
high-spirited and wilful Duchess of Osterley.

"Caroline, by Jove! Why, I thought you were out of England, still