MY LOST DUCHESS ''" 1 MY LOST DUCHESS AN IDYL OF THE TOWN BY AUTHOR OK "PRINCETON STORIES," "NEW YORK SKETCHES, "THE STOLEN STORY," ETC. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY WALLACE MORGAN NEW YORK THE CENTURY CO. 1908 THE "JF vi-.NE PRESS TO S.-C. W. P. 2138927 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS She made a pleasant picture there . . Frontispiece PAGE She stood, all in white 39 She swung her gaze up and around at me . .141 I love you, love you, love you 199 I came to say good-hy 249 Sit down, Nick* 285 MY LOST DUCHESS MY LOST DUCHESS AN IDYL OF THE TOWN HERE is a beautiful girl in this town who has lately contracted an agreeable habit of making a trium- phal tour up the crowded avenue past my window. She is rather tall, with a great amount of brownish hair, and wondrous eyes, which you might call starry, if that admits of a twinkle in them. At times she drives, looking like a god- 3 MY LOST DUCHESS dcss in her cart. no, not like a goddess in her cart at all ; like a lovely woman in a modern, not to say extremely fashion- able, victoria; and tor my part I like this better. Imagine a rather heavy goddess trying to wear one of her hats ! Besides, goddesses would hardly mani- fest such a charmingly human interest in things and people that pass. Xor for that matter do man)' other humans of the sort termed fashionable; but this one never seems to be concerned with her clothes, her equipage or her fashion- nobility. Indeed she does not seem to be aware of making triumphal tours. She knows she 's a beauty though they always do; but as she has the com- fortable assurance that every one else acknowledges it too, she leans back in the cushions and lets go of herself, quite as if she were a philosophical old maid who had ceased to struggle. MY LOST DUCHESS More frequently she walks (I suppose you would call it walking), giving me a chance to look at close range, only the window-pane, the half-hidden privet hedge, and the granite balustrade be- tween us. There is plenty of time to be critical when she walks. I have fine long, leisurely looks all the way from the right- hand frame of the window to the left. Ours are broad, generous windows. When she drives, it is all over in a flashing second, and I have twenty-four hours to wait; sometimes even longer, for the habit is still in the forming. Indeed, I have yet to find one of them to be trusted implicitly. In times past, many, many of those I have grown fond of in the course of the trip across from one edge of the window to the other, dawned upon me but that once, or possibly twice, and never came near me again, though I loved them dearly for whole weeks at a time. 5 MY LOST DUCHESS I wonder what has become ot you all. Is if fliaf you are afraid fhat I -ball ^ct over if it \ ou let me sec too much ot you'? She is not afraid. IT ID-DAY she swerved in quite near me, next to the balus- trade, and before she reached the other frame of the win- dow I had made numerous discoveries. I feel now that I know her quite inti- mately. The under lashes are also rather long, as under lashes go, and evenly dis- tributed. I may say that it is a remark- able face, for it somehow sparkles. Not seeing me she will never know how much I appreciate her, and I doubt if she would care. She coolly sweeps past with that light, strong stride of hers, as though it were the greatest fun to walk and I suppose it must be when you do it that way thinking the loveliest thoughts (which have nothing to do with me) and 7 MY LOST DUCHESS yet taking such a charming interest, a gently humorous I almost saui a Denial interest in every one (except those in club windows), though looking all the while at something a million miles be- yond the Avenue and me. I trust I ma}' never meet this girl. For she, no doubt, like all the rest who held out hope from time to time of being as I wanted them to be. would only pnm another disappointment. Yes, I shall stay here safely by my window, and thus keep her for my own for ever. 8 Ill ,T is the tenth day she has kept me waiting in this stogy chair missing my swim down- stairs, making me late for dinner, and causing all sorts of inconve- nience for many people. I had thought that I could trust her. Possibly she resents my looking at her; I can't see why. What difference can it make to her, my sitting here liking her as the crowd goes by. Though I have tried, I can find no adequate excuse for her con- duct, and suspect that she has been get- ting married or something of that sort. There sits Torresdale in the opposite chair. He likes to read his paper here, and has an absurd notion that he owns my window. He is a literary man and 9 MY LOST DUCHESS feels superior to all human emotions. What would Torre-dale think ot me it he knew whv I hold the "Evening Post" so high between us even evening at thi- hourV . . . A purple gloom has eome over the Avenue, a deeper gloom is over me. The eabs have begun to show feeble yellow lamps: the long, even rows ot ,-treet light- are being turned on. white and unneces- sary. My arm, as usual at this time, is numb with holding up the paper. Some ot the same women I observed valiantly setting forth tor teas an hour or two ago are returning now with a sanctified air, their duty done. The walking up-town crowd is thin- ning out; all over the city people are dressing for dinner. In a moment the servants will come in irom the hall and draw the thick crimson curtains across the windows, shutting oif my view of the Avenue until to-morrow. 10 MY LOST DUCHESS But this will be the last time. I have other things to do in life besides waiting upon the whims of a girl. . . . Ah, I knew she would be true to me! See how she walks! With an innocent expression as if she 'd never imposed upon me at all Look! She is smiling this is an historic moment. Oh, now I understand, that small girl beside her who can site be? There, they are gone. I don't know where, I never shall, but I know I have seen that face before ! When she smiled I was sure of it. Torresdale can have the whole window to himself now, since he insists upon ruin- ing his eyes. "Good-night, Torry," I said, and arose to go. He replied rather animatedly for him: "By the way, Nick, who 's the child with her?' I looked at him a moment in sorrow, and then we both laughed. 11 IV HIS is what I heard to-day as I approached Torresdale seated in the corner with Harry Lawrence. Harry, I may add. is one ot ll,c Lau- rences. He knows this and so little else, but perhaps it is enough, he thinks. "Though lie travels more than most Xew Yorkers," Torresdale once said ot him, "Harry will never in all his lite get away from Xew York. He 's as provincial as you are, Xick, though not so unworldly." I was behind Lawrence's chair and he did not see me at. first. "She 's some- thing new, that 's certain," he was Baying with an air of authority, tor Lawrence would doubtless know her it she were not new; that is, if she weie worth knowing, and evidently he considered her qualified, 12 MY LOST DUCHESS for he went on: "There 's a well-bred poise, an aristocratic quietness about that girl." Lawrence thinks he has it too, and perhaps he has. "Not only that, but the look on her face, the blood in her body, she has an air," said Torresdale, "an air that is born and not made." "Well, I wish I knew who she is, any- way," said Lawrence, smoking comfort- ably. "If you really care to know," said Torresdale with a manner of finality, which made us turn toward him expect- antly he is always saying things worth listening to "'She 's the young Duchess of Hetherington." ("Then the young girl with her," I ex- claimed to myself, "is her daughter.") "And the child," continued Torresdale, turning squarely around and smiling knowingly at me, "is her step-daughter." 13 MY LOST DUCHESS Lawrence also now looked at inc. I was glad 1 was standing out ot the light. tor I telt annoyed by this. "What !" he exclaimed, turning toward me. "Do you mean to say that our Nick here is another?" "Her discoverer!" announced Torre- dale. "He 's been hugging one oi the windows for a month, holding his paper upside down." Lawrence laughed and touched the bell. "I 'm disappointed in you. Nick." he said. "I did n't think you 'd take ad- vantage ot a woman behind her back!" ''Oh, Xick with his virginal air and hi- mid-Victorian ideals." said Torresdale, who likes to talk, "is a de\il and a dreamer in disguise. I 'ye watched him. Like so many of you tellows down-town he 's still romantic-. There are more ot that sort in Wall Street, if you onlv knew it, than in my trade. We have a good H MY LOST DUCHESS deal to say about such stuff, but you are the ones who feel it." "You do have a good deal to say," I remarked, and he stopped at last. "But see here," said Lawrence, "there is no Duchess of Hetherington." "I know it," said Tony; "but she is a young duchess all the same." "How do you know?" "How do I know? Why, look at her!" At that moment she was returning up the Avenue in the victoria, with the little step-daughter; at least I suppose it was the same one, I did not look at the child. There was a mild scramble for the win- dow. "Nick," said Lawrence, chaffing, "you should check those shoulders of yours out- side in the cloak-room they obstruct the view." But I made no reply for I had a glimpse of her driving by with the ador- 15 MY LOST DUCHESS able far-away look in her face, all uncon- scious of the eyes shooting out at her from behind our stone fortifications. In a second or two it was all over and she was gone. "At the very least a duchess," mused Torry. "Or a queen," said Lawrence. "Better yet." Torry replied, "a woman." "Good-niiiht," said I. 16 V JORRESDALE and Lawrence are over in the corner talking about her. Let them talk! Torresdale is describing her charm with words of whose spelling I might not be sure. Let him describe. Oh, Torresdale, oh, all you fellows over there, oh, all you other men in the world, if you only knew how I am gloating over you now ! It happened less than an hour since. I had walked up-town from the office, as usual. It was one of our fine brisk after- noons of early spring we had to-day, we who walk up-town, with a west breeze from over the Jersey Palisades, and the Hudson blue and crisp between; an ex- cellent afternoon for walking, and I 17 MY LOST DUCHESS ended up at the dub feeling very lit: hur- ried down to flu- swimming-pool in the basement, threw oft" my clothe.-, dived head first into the clear exhilarating water, and then, after an alcohol rub. stretched out a bit in the resting-room, with nothing to occupv my attention but a sheet, and perchance a cocktail. I had hardly gained my accustomed chair by the window beiore I spied her. (Her hours are becoming outrageously irregular.) This time, as it happened, she was walking down-town instead of up, but that was not the most remarkable thing about it. With her was a man, and such a man a Fifth Avenue beggar, a large, able-bodied impostor, former!} a crook and well known to the police. He was pressing closer and closer beside her. apparently muttering insistently: she was more than annoyed: she seemed frightened, and the policeman was at 18 MY LOST DUCHESS the other end of his beat, as the beggar knew. One or two passers-by glanced a second time at the strangely assorted pair, but passed on without interfering God bless them. It takes a number of valuable seconds to get to the cloak-room, hand in a check, put on a hat and reach the Avenue. By the- time I was there they were halt-way down the next block. Suddenly I saw her stop and turn back abruptly in my direction, as if to get rid of the beggar by this move. But he turned too. and continued his demands as daringly as if this were Naples instead of Xew York. She, retreating and accelerating her pace, as if now 7 in a panic, was holding out her empty hands to show she had no purse. I could hardly believe my luck, for it was the first time such an opportunity had ever come to me, and I had long since abandoned all hope of it. 19 MY LOST DUCHESS Now she saw me bearing down upon them and raised her eyelashes tor the purpose ot looking at me. Her glance, said, rather frankly as it we were alreadv (jiiite congenial, "Would you be so good as to help me out ot this? You look so capable." I only raised my hat in a matter-of- fact way as it I made a daily practice of doing things like this for her, and grab- bing that blessed beggar bv the back of the neck, I quietly hustled him down the cross street, shaking him now and then from side to side. Halt-way down to Sixth Avenue, I decided he was about scared enough, so with a parting kick I let him go. It was not a very hard kick considering that this was the only chance of the sort I might ever have tor another quarter of a century, but it was a rather satisfactory kick withal. As I turned back toward the Avenue, 20 MY LOST DUCHESS I think I had a glimpse of her for a mo- ment at the crossing, as if she had been looking on. Then I sauntered into the club and quietly joined Torry as if noth- ing had happened. He had arrived dur- ing my absence. "You are just too late, Nick," he said exultingly for he had seen her on the way back evidently "the show is over for to-day." I picked up the evening paper calmly. "What of it?" said I. He and Harry are still laughing at this. Let them laugh. 21 VI AM atraicl that I am hope- There arc a number ot v, ho take the walk ir>-ro\vn rc^iilarlx". and v\'c can not help rcco,;ni'/- IT.L; one another's existence, even though v. e do not acknowledge it. \Ye arc a sort of walking-club, and natural ly \\'c take a iriendlv fellow-members' interest. in one another. There is a certain j, r irl in gray. This i.- a recent acquisition, and. tor my part. I don't believe in ignoring new members ot clubs as the older members of some clubs do. She is a very small person with all the tingling daintiness of MY LOST DUCHESS a geisha, and sometimes I feel like put- ting her in my pocket. This girl has a way of looking up at me tor a millionth of a second merely to see if it is I which interests me. Then she looks away again as if saying, "Yes, it is you but I am not interested; it is simply that you are so big." Then I always say though not aloud "Ah, indeed"? Just so, you remember me!" Then she patters along down- town, tilting her pretty little figure for- ward in the way so many of our girls seem to enjoy walking, and I keep on straight up the Avenue, and both of us look grave and rather abstracted; and that 's all there is to it. So I consider it no sign of disloyalty that just at this particular second I was not thinking about the young Duchess. I had not seen the girl in gray for a very long time, and I was saying some such 23 MY LOST DUCHESS as. "Where have you been all this while V" or "You arc looking very well to-day,'' when out ot the void there sud- denly appeared, sai ing down upon me like a beautiful rebuke, she. her-elt. alone in all her glory and, incidentally, with a most becoming boa around her neek. Ot course she did not see me; her ga/e, like her thoughts, was on high, tar above and beyond any point I may ever hope to attain. But as it happens, this was very nice tor me. because I could luxuriate in a tull clear look at her while approaching and crossing each other's orbits. So tine and tender and true, so rich and deep and glorious. I telt that I had never really known her before. "It ever you cared for any one." I was thinking, as all too soon we were about to pass each other, and away "It ever you cared. \<>u would think and thrill, and live for no one else," and at that in- 24 MY LOST DUCHESS stant, as it happened, she looked up and caught my gaze fixed upon her not rudely, I hope. She looked away again, but instantaneously glanced back, suffused me with a frank, friendly smile, blinded me with a dazzling bow, and passed on, while I felt my amazed eyes blink and the blood rush to my tace. I could hardly lift my hat. As soon as I regained my senses I read- ily understood how it had happened. It was a natural mistake enough. The inci- dent with the beggar had brought us face to face, and seeing me suddenly again she remembered having seen me before, did not recall where or how, but thought for the moment I was some one she knew. If it had been any one else, for exam- ple, the girl in gray I beg her pardon for the thought I should not have been so overwhelmed. I think I might even have enjoyed it, made the most of it, en- MY LOST DUCHESS tercel into it with relish. There is :i twin- kle in licr eye too, but there "s nothing ^tarry about it. Yet I could not help rejoicing that the Duchess remembered my lace, even while it showed she had forgotten my service, though I trust she did not notice my look of shock and ama'/.emcnt as she bowed and passed on. I spend more time in walking now, and that will do me jj;ood, tor I am taking on weight a^ain. The walk up-town trom Wall Street is not enough tor me. I ( u~o on up to the Park these days, to see if I cannot lower my record around the reser- voir. It is AWRENCE and I spent last Sunday at Ogden's. Con- stance Ogden is the one of whom my aunt always says : "Such a nice girl." I never contradict my aunt, and yet she always reiterates it. Miss Ogden has a fluffy pompadour, and several million dollars in her own right. But she has more than that; she is a dear girl, and I like her very much. We are the best of friends and talk in the frankest way about all sorts of things, and agree on most of them. There are few girls to compare with her for sweet- ness of nature and sincerity of manner. If ever she marries any of us who hang around her, she will spoil him to death. I can see Lawrence, for instance he 34 MY LOST DUCHESS is the most persistent at the family din- ner-table, after he has become fat and phlegmatic. Sometimes I confess I have put myself in the picture, but that makes an entirely different picture, for I appre- ciate her more than Lawrence ever could, though this never seems to occur to him. I have always said that I would never marry for money; yet if I were to dis- cover that the girl I loved was an heiress in disguise, I might not feel so awfully cut up about it. Oh, well, one does n't give up much time to deliberation when spending Sunday in the country. Most of us work indoors pretty hard all the week, and when Saturday afternoon comes we prefer exercise to planning for our futures. Men and girls both are a pretty frank, wholesome lot, and not over clever like the cynical worldlings Torresdale tells about in his stories. At least, this is true of the crowd I have 35 MY LOST DUCHESS most to do with, and I am informed by tin- aunt; who ought to know, that they include some of the "nicest people." "But how can you tell them from the others V" I said one day to my aunt. "How can you tell which are the nicest?" "By their names, my dear," said my aunt. We had just arrived and were having tea on the cool terrace. Mrs. Ogden said, "Xick. would you mind going down into the garden and telling Mademoiselle that tea is hereV I left her near the lower fountain below the bo\vl ing-green," she said, fanning herself. I ought to know where that was Constance and I had often strolled there and I thought I would know a made- moiselle when I saw one. The Ogdens' garden is rather large, and is old enough to have found itself. It does n't look as if it were an Italian 36 garden made while you wait, as do so many of our new and doggedly correct young gardens in America. At any rate it was fragrant and delightful down there in the cool of the afternoon follow- ing the hot, dirty ride out through the Forty-second Street tunnel. It was just the time of day I have grown fond of lately, and it gave me a distinct pang to think that possibly my Duchess would be passing the window at this very moment. But there stood the Duchess before me. With a sunbonnet in her hands behind her back she stood, all in white, looking down at some goldfish in the fountain; she had evidently been feeding them. Her back was half turned toward me. She did not stir. Nor did I. I only waited at a respectful distance and ap- preciated her sweet figure and the rather remarkable profile. There was no dreamy far-away look there at present; it was all 37 MY LOST DUCHESS eager absorption in what she was doing, with the lips protruding a bit, most inter- estingly. Torresdale, I suppose, could have seen and described in worthy phrases how be- witchingly the sott afternoon glow told on her richly-colored complexion, and how that background suited her, with the fountain and its silvery ripples, and the pergola with its fluttering leaves beyond; and beyond that the great thick bank of dark, cool trees. It is a great accomplish- ment to be able to use your head when your heart is using you so hard. All I could do was to stand there and gaze. It was not until long afterward that I knew she was dressed in white, and recalled that I had never seen her so costumed be- fore, and wanted in the future never to see her otherwise. I actually dreaded hearing the sound of her voice, for I had heard it once already and knew how it 38 She stood, all in white MY LOST DUCHESS could upset me. I am getting old and find it necessary to look out for my nerves. This did not seem to last more than an hour or so when suddenly I had a strange feeling. "She is going to turn," I said to myself, and she did turn. She did not start, her eyes merely laid hold of mine and held them. My gaze reverently bowed down to the ground before her. Then the voice began, "I should think," she remarked unexcitedly, swinging her hat and the tingling qual- ity was even more potent than when she addressed me in the Park "I should think you would be rather ashamed." A pause. Still looking at me and swinging her sunbonnet, "How long were you going to keep it up 4 ?" She seemed rather put out about it. But I kept on gazing at the ground. Here at last was the one of all the world standing before me by a silvery fountain 41 MY LOST DUCHESS in the fragrant twilight, with all the rest of mankind a million miles away a thing to dream of, and I said nothing, The voice went. on. "Do you think it manly, do you think it thoughtful, do you think it kind?" Perceiving that she was merely having tun with me I managed to say: "I was really trying very hard to call your at- tention "Oh, you were?'' she asked sarcas- tically. " but as it happened I could n't speak just then.'' "How strange!'' she remarked. "Why not?" "Besides," I went on, ignoring her question, "I did not know how anxious you were to have me speak to you judg- ing from a former experience." She shot a look at me. "I 'm not anxious to have you stare at me," she returned. 42 MY LOST DUCHESS "I merely came to deliver a message," I said. "Pray do so then. Can't you see how embarrassing this is to me?" Her lips were quite grave as she said this but a dancing light in her wondrous eyes showed how embarrassed she was with me before her at her mercy. "But the message was not for you," I said. "It was for a little French girl." "A little French girl?" "Mrs. Ogden said I should find 'Mademoiselle' down here some place. Have you seen any Mademoiselles wan- dering about the premises?" I inquired gravely. "I am Mademoiselle," she said. "You?" I exclaimed. "I thought you were a duchess." "No," she said, "a governess." "Oh," said I, while she hurried on past me with a curious smile on her face. 43 X mi; others were out on the wa- ter in the moonlight, but. Mademoiselle and I were on the terrace. I was smoking and she was counting falling stars, and did not seem to con- sider me worth while talking to. "I am sorry, but I do not know what your name is/' said I, breaking into the silence. '"I could not hear it." She turned and looked at me qui/- '/ically. "They call me 'Mademoiselle,' she said, continuing to look at me in her reposeful way. "I know that, but what shall I call you?" I said, smiling. "Mademoiselle." She turned away and looked out 44 MY LOST DUCHESS over the water, the million-miles-away look. "Mademoiselle," I began. She kept on looking out over the water and far away for a little while longer, then she slowly turned her face toward me with an expression of calm, passive inquiry the kind Torresdale used to call in his earlier stories, "a look of well-bred in- terest." "I was just going to remark that it seems rather odd our meeting out here, after all. Don't you think so'?" I had not said a word to her at dinner. She was at the other end of the table and seemed to lead the conversation, and to be poking a little quiet fun at Lawrence, who presently became aware of it, and found the place she meant for him. Even Mrs. Ogden seems to be rather in awe of her new governess. This governess now turned toward me, 45 MY LOST DUCHESS and, looking gently perplexed, said, "Odd?" ''After those little episodes on the Avenue, it you happen to recall them," said I, flicking my cigar ashes. "Episodes V" she asked. "On the Ave- nue V Ah, to he sure, you are the kind man who was so very obliging that day." She looked at me with new interest. "Thank you very, very much." "I did n't mention it tor that reason," I returned, somewhat amused. ''Besides, you amply repaid me by bowing to me the next time we met." I looked at her and smiled. ''Did I?" She looked back vaguely. "Oh, yes; how stupid of me to torget." "I don't consider it stupid," I said, pausing. "But I felt sorry to be so soon forgotten." Another, longer pause. "Had it entirely left your memory?" She turned toward me with the sort of 4 6 MY LOST DUCHESS interest a kindergarten teacher might be- stow upon a young charge. "I beg your pardon you were saying ?" I smiled and repeated my question. "I was merely anxious to know whether it had entirely left your memory?" "No," she replied, with a period on the end of the word. "There is another falling star." "By George!" said I to myself, "we '11 see about this I '11 make you pay some attention to my remarks." I turned to her gravely. "Would you mind very much," I said, "if I ask how it happens that you are not a duchess?" "Because I have not married a duke," she said casually, as if accustomed to this mistake, and not particularly impressed by it, for she began to do something to the pinnacle of her coiffure with both hands, a captivating posture, her white arms gleaming in the moonlight. 47 MY LOST DUCHESS I have told 'you only what her tingling voice said. Her manner said with quite as tingling distinctness. "I think you are rather an impertinent person." So I became quite flippant, and de- termined to bowl her over. "But whv ilon t you marry a duke V said I. "I have never before seen so man}" tail- ing stars at this time of the year. Have you noticed them?" She turned toward me, and, seeing my expression, suddenly repeated: "I bc(j your pardon you were saying "?" "Oh, no matter," I replied. There was a still longer pause; after this. Suddenly becoming aware of my per- sistent presence she assumed the kindly kindergarten manner again, and. as if saying to herself, "As long as this person can talk only direct personalities, I sup- pose I must humor him" "You are a MY LOST DUCHESS barrister, are you not'?" she asked me kindly. "We call them lawyers in this coun- try," I said. "I suppose you get not a little amuse- ment out of your work"?" She was pa- tronizing me. "More amusement than money," I re- plied. Her manner was distinctly more gra- cious now, and yet a little bantering. "Do you hurry down to the city with an important scowl, and come home with a tired sigh like most of your kind"?" "I go through all the motions," said I. She laughed at this and looked down at me with some degree of interest. I was sitting at her feet, and thinking that her mouth when she laughed was about the most charming mouth I had ever seen. "I believe you are beginning to like me 49 MY LOST DUCHESS a little better," I said humbly, looking up at her. "Quite so," she said calmly. ''Would you eonsider it very imperti- nent in me to ask who you are and where }'ou eame from?" I asked respectfully. ''No," with another tailing inflection, as graceful but as cold as a falling star. "Who are you"?" "The governess." "Do you come from England?'" "No." A pause. "Why do they call you Mademoi- selle"?" "I asked them to do so." "A good reason; but why Mademoi- selle?" "I began the work in France. It is a convenient title." "Do you like your work?" "I like the Ogdens." 50 MY LOST DUCHESS "Are n't they lovely? Have you known them long?" "They are indeed lovely." She ig- nored the rest. She evidently thought / was patronizing licr, or trying to. "I suppose," said I, "you do all this sort of thing because it is an interesting diversion, do you not?" "I do 'all this sort of thing,' " she re- plied, "for the same reason that you practise law, presumably, though you seem to enjoy cross-examination for its own sake, do you not?" With that she arose, tall and disdainful, and I came to myself. "Oh, I beg your pardon," I cried, springing up; "I did not realize how im- pertinent it must seem to you. I know we have just met but it is simply that I have happened to see a good deal of you since you came to town, though I don't propose to tell you where or how." MY LOST DUCHESS She was still rather disdainful there in the shadow, but I thought she seemed a little interested in this. "The fact is. I have been seeing you sometimes three days in succession ! What is more I have sometimes even been on the watch for you, because, you see, I had fallen into the habit of seeing you. and missed you when you did n't come. I could not help wondering where you were, and what had happened to you. You don't mind that, do you?'' She said nothing, but at least she did not go. "At any rate, I could not help it, even if you did mind it," I went on, "any more than I could help wondering who you were and what it would be like to know you, and how your voice would sound, and whether you would be will- ing to talk to me if we ever met. I did n't want to meet you not a bit of it. 52 MY LOST DUCHESS Because every time I have rushed around to get introduced to any of you I have al- ways been disappointed in you. But when at last pretty suddenly this after- noon you appeared! why you must ad- mit that naturally I wanted to get the answers to some of those questions I had been asking for months. You see how it is now, don't you?" Her only reply to this long speech of mine was to gather a little scarf she wore about her shoulders and step back through the open window into the li- brary. "All right!" thought I, "go in and shut me out," and aloud I said, "I bid you good-night," bowing formally to- ward the indefinite dimness. Then she spoke from the dark interior of the room, her voice sounding timid and tremulous, I thought. "Am I another?" she asked. 53 MY LOST DUCHESS "Another V" I repeated, perplexed. disappointment?" "Not yet," I said. "Then I have that mueh to be thank- ful for, have n't IV" she replied in a tone 1 which left no doubt that she was having tun with me. But she leaned out and gave my hand a charmingly frank shake. ''Good-by, Mr. Nicholas Brooks. After this, shun club windows." XI ER name is Hulda and she is studying to be an actress. I should think but little study were required. I don't fancy the idea of her going on the stage, but Torresdale says that this shows her to be a girl of spirit. "The trouble with you," he said, "is your mid-Victorian ideals." Then he went on: "We all have something to do here on this earth, or else we would n't be on it. Every one ought to seek his or her work live his own life realize his own individuality." As it happens, she does not find much chance to realize her own individuality at present. When they were in town she managed to slip off for an hour or two 55 MY LOST DUCHESS (very clay. Torresdale says. (So now I know where she had been and what she was thinking about when T used to watch her walking buoyantly past the club win- dow.) But since they went, to the coun- try she has n't had a chance to take a single lesson, though I presume she practises in her room, in front of the mirror. Torn and I think she ought to come into town for the purpose about once a week, at least. But he explained that such an ar- rangement would involve telling Mrs. Ogden, who is an old friend of Made- moiselle's father, who does not approve of his daughter's ambition. Mrs. Ogden would also doubtless disapprove, and the least she would do would be to tell Mr. Rutherford Hulda's father. The worst Mrs. Ogden might do would be. to get another governess, and in that case we don't know how Mademoiselle could at- tain her ambition. Her father won't, help 56 MY LOST DUCHESS her. On the contrary, quite the reverse. Moreover, there is a second Mrs. Ruther- ford. Hence there is also a new gov- erness in the world. Only, she is n't really a governess; she is a tutor to Constance's little sister Edith. "Why does she insist upon call- ing herself a governess, then*?" I asked Torresdale. "I have an idea," said Torresdale, "that it is because above all she is femi- nine. The term 'tutor' connotes eye- glasses and strenuosity imagine her with either unfeminine adjunct." He talks for hours in a most remarkable way. I suppose he does appreciate people bet- ter when he has phrases for them. So the young girl sometimes with her on the Avenue was little Edith Ogden ! It seems odd I never recognized the child as she passed the club window. ("You never looked at her," said Torry.) I 've 57 MY LOST DUCHESS gone over the links with her frequently, and she is a splendid little girl golfer. Mademoiselle was a classmate of Constance's at college or rather, I should say Constance was a classmate ot hers, for she was one of those epoch-mak- ing Athenes at college who rule and are worshiped by all, and whose colleagues boast of having been there during their reign. Hero-worship! It 's nothing to heroine-worship ! At college she acted Rosalind under ttie trees, and before that she acted with striking success at the convent in France. Torry says that acting is only one of her stunts. I now recall having heard ot her by reputation. Constance used to boast of rooming in the same entry, and some girls I know once got hold of a photo- graph of their goddess, daringly had it reproduced and distributed among the under-classmen women, girls, under- 58 MY LOST DUCHESS class ladies, whatever do you call them 1 ? in this way a worthy student who was helping to meet her own expenses made a lot of money. My astral notion of hav- ing seen her in a previous existence, by the way, is reduceable to a rather poor Pach photograph of her which Constance once, when visiting my sister, showed me, somewhat ostentatiously turning it over so I could see the autograph on the back. But I was a mere boy then and only took a patriarchal interest in her enthusiasm. The main point about all this is that she cannot possibly be more than twenty- five, in spite of her superior attitude and kindergarten manner. "Just how old is your fascinating friend 1 ?" I asked Constance the other day. She looked at me a moment as if say- ing, "Et tu Nickie'?" and replied with a little laugh: "She and I, Nick, are old 59 MY LOST DUCHESS enough not to like people to know how old we are." Constance has a charming precision in her intonations. "She 's not much younger than you, is she?" So straightway Constance answered, without laughing this time: "She 's not younger at all ; she 's older than I a lit- tle." I have not been out to the Ogdens' again, though Torry has. Mrs. Ogden said she wanted me in August, but the month is nearly over now. In short T have not seen their governess again since; the occasion of her warning me against, club windows. At times when T have; nothing better to do, T confess, I glance out of the window, probably from force of habit. It is a dreary sight, the Avenue in Au- gust, when every one is away and the asphalt becomes oo7y and odorous, and 60 MY LOST DUCHESS people of a sort seldom seen at any other time take possession of the shops and restaurants in such numbers and with such bold assurance that the few lawful rulers on the scene are made to feel strange and out of place themselves. "Our city leads a dual life," says Torres- dale, "and summer is the brief but shame- less season of the Other One." Oh, where are the girls of yesterday? Having a "perfectly lovely time," I trust, wherever you are; becoming richly tanned against the day of your glorious return in the autumn, when, with a fine brisk breeze that makes the flags stand out straight, you will suddenly rejoin the ranks of the walking up-town club to gladden the Avenue and me with a guileless smile as if you had never de- serted us at all. I '11 be there to welcome you. We miss you very much. If it 61 MY LOST DUCHESS were n't tor an occasional trip to town for shopping or a dentist's appointment, or an interest ing transit from railroad to steamship (with steamer rugs and trunks crowding the driver off the box). I don't see how we could last out from one week's end to another. Sunday is such a blessed relict. Then we go to the coun- try, too. tor a glad time ot it, and back to work again on dreary Monday morn- ing. Yes, I have thought it over very calmly now for two months, and have decided that the charm is gone. She, alas, has proved "another one," atter all. T knew it would happen it I met her. I 'm sure I did all I could to prevent that catas- trophe. I can picture her to myselt with- out becoming in the least excited. In fact, T often do picture her to myself in all her once fascinating phases. Ah, well, perhaps it is better that it 62 MY LOST DUCHESS should have died a peaceful, natural death than from one of those violent dis- illusionments by which in times past I lost so many of her predecessors. I re- call a certain brown and red girl her name has escaped me with whom I golfed one day in Westchester County I don't recall the place. I adored her all morning, but in the afternoon she forgot her handkerchief and sniffed three times. But I try not to look like a man with a great sorrow as I walk up the Avenue aim- lessly. So it is all over and done for. Even if sitting here at the window I should see her Great heavens ! But it 's impossible ! But there she is see how she walks ! Be- hold the notable arch of the brows ! Con- sider the poise of her swinging body, walking as though it were no, now that she is nearer she seems not so buoyantly 63 MY LOST DUCHESS as of old. There 's a tender line of trouble on her face. And why is she on the other side ot the street '<* This is most extraordinary. I wish I could find out. But there, she is rced me to the heart. Three long strides brought me to her side. "May I not offer you in hie V" I said, holding out a fre>h handkerchief sympa- thetically. "It 's so much bigger. Ah, do." I found myself saying in the mo.-t matter-of-fact way, as if it were a cup of tea. She averted her face, .-baking her head. "I have another, you know." said I affably. ''I always carry two in weather like this. That 's why I am able to offer you a nice fresh, folded-up one, you see/' She only made a sobbing sound and kept her face averted. "I 'm afraid yours won't last much longer," I said sympathetically, walking now beside her. She turned and looked at me with that 66 MY LOST DUCHESS notable directness of hers. I looked back at her, my brows still knit, and looking as serious and solicitous as possible. Sud- denly she burst out laughing. As she did so one rather huge tear spilt over the edge and rolled down her cheek and dropped off to the walk and was lost on Fifth Avenue. Thus we two on this hot August after- noon went marching up the Avenue, laughing and looking at each other. We were passing that long, uniform row of stone dwellings which somehow suggests Paris, especially as you approach the wide asphalt spaciousness of the Plaza, but we were n't thinking about that for the moment. We became much better friends while we were laughing together. Realizing at last that we w r ere on the hotter side of the Avenue we crossed over to the smug row of trees which line the Park. MY LOST DUCHESS "All right now?" I asked solic'itously as we dodged a Presbyterian Ilo-pira! ambulance alter sonic [)oor devil over- ''All right now." she .-aid in the nicest way. "You see I don't need any hand- kerchief no\\' at ail." She turned h< r eyes full u[)on me, beaming kindly: "''lint I thank you ju>t as nuieh tor yours," .-lie added. "I do see." said I. deliberately. L 'T am so ^lad." F added, and kept on looking. She shitted her ^a/.e as though she thought she had let me look in Ion;.: enough. "You came just in time," she said lightly. "DiclT"? How so?" "You saved my lite. I 've had t he- most dreadful experience!" "Really!" said I sympathetically; "any more beggars V 68 MY LOST DUCHESS "Worse, much worse." "It must have been before you passed the that is, before I happened to pass you on my walk." "At his office," she replied. "Oh, at his office," I said vaguely, but she did not seem to observe it, becoming reminiscently excited all over again. "Good-by," she added suddenly. "See where we are ! I must go back and take my train and you must take your walk. Thank you so much." We were opposite the Ogdens' house and I suppose the sight of the dreary, boarded-up entrance and blank, waiting windows reminded her. She turned about. I also turned about. "Would you mind my going with you?" I asked, and she let me. "May I ask how you happened to get into his office?" I went on. MY LOST DUCHESS ''By appointment." she said. "Oh, I see/' said I. "He told me to come again in Au- gust." "Why Aupist?" She looked at me quizzically. "Good-by." she said jocularly. "I merely want to say good-by to you in ad- vance, before T tell you about it; because, after I tell you about it you won't like me!" She looked extremely grieved about it. "Proceed," said T. "You are of the sort who cannot under- stand, and those who do not understand life is too short, to explain yourself to every one." "All right," said I, knowing now what she referred to, but pretending I did n't. "Good-by," she said again. "Nonsense," said I. "I am studying for the stage." 70 MY LOST DUCHESS "Fine!" I shouted it so loud that I awoke three babies in passing perambu- lators. She had stopped abruptly and was looking at me. She had evidently ex- pected a different answer. "Really'?" she said. "I am sur- prised." "You see, you did not know me," said I, shaking my head. "I 'm afraid I did take you for a con- ventionally-minded little man," she said, dreamily. "Not a bit of it," I replied emphat- ically. "I am so glad," she said. "And you really like girls to become actresses'?" "Bully!" said I. "Girls you know 4 ?" "We all have something to do here on this earth," I said, "else we would not be on it. Every one ought to seek his or her 71 MY LOST DUCHESS work live his own lite rcali'/c his own ndividuality." She looked down the Avenue ahead of i , smiling quietly. "You and Mr. Torresdale seem to be great friends,"' she o nice to you!'' I said in surprise. "No one could be nicer." "They all swear bv you." "Yes. They intrust me with their lives, their fortune-, and their love at- tairs. But would you enjoy selling pea- nuts when }'ou want to practi.-e law?" \\ T C arose to go. "It depends upon the price," said I. "At an}' price," she murmured as she touched my hand (with two fingers) to get off the car. "There are worse things than selling peanuts/' I remarked senrentiouslv us we crossed the platform toward the wagon- ette. She began to laugh quietly and turned her wondrous eyes upon me. "As it I did not know all the time," she whis- MY LOST DUCHESS pered as I helped her into the wagorrette "that you would disapprove of any girl's 'going on the stage,' as people call it." "Oh," I protested, "but" "Ready, James." Then she turned to me "But it was so nice of you to pre- tend all the same. Good-by." Then she was off, nodding and smiling back at me. XIV oRRr.sDAi.i-: was looking at the moon when I reached him on the club root-garden. ''Business all finished'! 1 " asked Torry when I had completed my rather elaborate apology. "Oh, yes," said T. "Then it 's time tor pleasure," he said, ringing the bell tor a waiter to take my order. I stretched out in my chair with the comfortable sigh of a hard-working man and looked up at the stars overhead. That is one of the things that we all ought to do more often in lite. I under- stand, and though the}" were not much in the way of stars through the lur/.e of the city, still they were not so bad as a contrast with the signs of the city far 86 MY LOST DUCHESS down below us. The moon was there, too, and it was nearly full. "My boy, you work too long," said Torresdale. "Were you working yery hard?" "Part of the time it was hard work." "Hum," said he, "not when I saw you." "You saw me?" "Across the street. I happened to be up-stairs in the magay.ine room standing by the window. My dear fellow, not a word; you can haye me to dine with you any time. I would have done exactly the same thing in your case. Moreover," he added casually, "you would have con- fessed it to me eventually. I know you better than you know yourself; you are the poorest liar I have ever known." Roof-gardens are not put down as very poetic places, but. there is a romantic charm about them to me. The roar of MY LOST DI T CHKSS the citv came up to us in our eery seclu- sion with a rumbling, tar-away note. We were quite alone in the southeast corner ot the' root, seated in comfortable outdoor chairs with our teet braced against the granite coping tliat walls us in so that we need not tee! as it about to tall out upon the Avenue. Behind us. near the elevator entrance, somebody was playing shuffle-board. Otherwise it was quiet, and troni where we sat we could see nothing urban on our horr/.on above the coping except a tew church spires, and. it we turned, a couple ot tall hotels to the north, which elbowed their way up above the other neighboring buildings and intrusively looked down over our pri- vate garden wall quite in the manner of smart hotels. Our voices had the thin, out-of-door quality, and the air was cool and clean away up there, and the moon was just as 88 MY LOST DUCHESS good as if it were on a terrace in the coun- try. In fact it was quite like being in the country, except that there were no mosquitos. I looked down from the moon and found Torresdale gazing at me quizzically. "Is n't she delicious?" said Torres- dale. "Who?' said I. "For a governess," Torresdale added. I played with the syphon. I did not feel like hearing him dissect her charm this evening; but Torresdale had dined, was under the moon, and was with a man who was amused by his command of words and play of fancy usually. "There is a subtle flavor about that girl," he said, with cigarette smoke com- ing out of nose and mouth, "a bouquet, a delicate fragrance as of old wine which one misses in so many of our modern strappers with their brown and brawny MY LOST DUCHESS anus. It ought to appeal to your early- Victorian sentimentality, Xick." I intimated that. I did not care to dis- cuss a lady in a club. "Another Victorian ideal!" he laughed; "you 're always in character, always consistent. Did ^he ever show you her eye-smile V he went on imper- turbably. I was drinking just then and did not rep]\-. '''She has the neatest trick of looking very grave 1 around the mouth and yet smiling palpably in the eyes. She must. have 1 learned that when she was at school in France. There, 's a Gallic quality in it." "What are you writing nowadays?" said T. "I 'd like to write about her, but" he shrugged his shoulders "I know my magnificent limitations. What in the 90 MY LOST DUCHESS world was she talking to you so earnestly about"?" I did not see what business this was of Torry's. "I am sorry," I replied, "but the fact is, she told me in confidence." "Really," said Torresdale, laughing easily, "how very interesting. The pretty governess," he went on glibly, "meets the handsome young lawyer handsome and brilliant, I should say, young lawyers are always brilliant meets him by appointment, evidently." He left a pause for me to make a sign of contra- diction or confirmation; I did not fill the pause, so he went on : "They are seen hurrying up the Avenue on a hot after- noon in earnest conversation. The bril- liant young lawyer cuts the dinner he had invited his dear friend to. Query: 'Did he dine with the pretty governess'?' ' I finished my drink and put down my glass. 91 MY LOST DUCHESS "Don't he an ass," I said. ''Yes. I fear you are another victim," lie rattled on. "Lawrence, is done tor. lie has transferred all his devotion for Miss ()u r den to Miss O^den's sister's gov- erness.' 1 "Lawrence is a fool." "Don't take him so hard. Nick; he 's merely amusing and does not know it. He can't help it; think of his handicaps." "What can she see in him?" I asked abruptly, and Torry laughed at me a^ain. "Who can tell, who can tell." he mused. "She is all things to all men." "Are there so many of them?" "Only as man}' as have visited Red Hill." The Oldens are ^reat entertain- ers. "Bill}- Ouirk is one of them. So is Purviance. Lawrence's father is an- other." Torry added. "What, that old man with the white mustache !" 92 MY LOST DUCHESS "But he has pink cheeks," said Torres- dale symbolically. ''Do you blame me for being worried even about you"? Not that it is so surprising to hear of the old Colonel's capitulation, but when I ob- served his son who well, Lawrence has his points, but for the sake of argument we '11 admit that he is a snob and she is not an heiress, only a governess. Now, you also have been devoted to Miss Og- den, and you," he paused and smiled, "are not a snob." 'Rot!" I growled. "That means that you are still true to the plump little heiress? Well, I 'm glad to hear it. My mind is relieved." My face was in the moonlight and I felt him looking at me. The picture of dear, gentle Constance rose before me, all unconscious of being discussed and of being called plump! "Miss Ogden and I are better friends 93 MY LOST Dl CITKSS than ever," said I with unnecessary em- phasis. "Ah! At last you Ve said something. Atter all, the object ot speech is to ex- press thought, not to conceal it, as some ot you so-called 'reserved' people think reserved because you don't know how to talk. So she 's been telling you. too, about her work, has she?" lie evidently meant Miss Rutherford. "Just like a girl, flatters each man into thinking he 's her special confidant and adviser, then tries to cover her tracks by exacting secrecy from each one. I gave the Mad- emoiselle credit tor having better head than that. Did she tell you I was going to write a play tor her some day V" "No. she did not honor me to that ex- tent," T replied, tor he rather amused me with his assumption ot superior intimacy. Perhaps I felt a bit provoked at her. too. "Some day," he replied. ''First, how- 94 MY LOST DUCHESS ever, she must get a job." I was unpleas antly reminded of her own story of tht actress who called it an employment agency. "And I am going to get her one if pulls can bring it. You 'ye got to have a pull for everything, and every- thing can be got by a pull. Most of you people think that any woman with a pretty face and a fine figure can walk straight out of the drawing-room on to the stage." "Go to the devil," thought I. "She has temperament, and, above all, beauty; all she requires is hard work and an opportunity, which I am going to get her" "Are you"?" said I. although there 's a prejudice now- adays against society girls." "She 's not a 'society girl.' ' "She 's not of the profession, my boy. They 're always 'recruits from society' 95 MY LOST D I : CHESS when they 're not brought up in the pro- fession. Oh, well, she '11 do some prat tiling some day, Xick. The time will come when we '11 boast of having known that governess/'' "T do already." said I, not fancying his patroni'/ing tone when applied to her. ''She does not seem to be very stage v as yet," I added. "Natural!}," said Torresdale with a smile for my word "stage}-." ''She is not one of your stage-struck 'young lad}' elo- cutionists/ though people think she is be- cause she is turning to the stage as the medium best adapted to her talent for interpreting life the inherent beauty and grace and tenderness of liv- ing as well as its little ironies. Hers is an art impulse, but I don't suppose you know what that means, though you prob- ably think you do." "Do you?" I asked. 96 MY LOST DUCHESS "Only to a certain extent," he replied, unruffled, and then went on with his sub- ject. "She has excellent ideas. For in- stance, she says that she has never seen on the stage and this shows her good head; I feared she would want to begin with CiinitUc or A'Ln/chi! has never seen a real American lady girl ot to-day. There have been plenty of provincial ingenues, and pseudo-cynical society women, so- called ; there have been Daisy Millers and M'lisses and Geraldines galore, but did you ever see a genuine, wholesome, yet fine-grained American girl like, for in- stance," he turned to me "Constance Ogden?" "I had n't thought about it," said I. "Frank, without being bold; humor- ous without being cynical; and aristo- cratic without being impressed by it ah, there 's the girl." I smoked and said nothing. 97 MY LOST DUCHESS "After all, there is nothing like that other 'inherent grace and dignity' which conies of wealth and position, say what we niav of certain other qualities in girls who are not like Con.-tance. Xick. you are a lucky man !'' "What do YOU want, anyhow?" said T, scowling at him. "Scotch and carbonic." lie replied, placidly, "and then an open cab. I have a long night's work ahead of me. Some- times I envy you even-houred chaps who lead normal lives,'' he .--aid. as we entered the elevator, "who fall in love and marrv and have families and become staid and respectable and like other people. Let me drive you down." "Thank you," I said, "but T always walk home to bed unless T ni above Ninetieth Street/' "That, 's right, that ? s right/' he said; "good, simple, normal, exercising chap, 98 MY LOST DUCHESS a man who sweats give me the man who sweats. Good-night. That 's one reason why I like you." And he drove off, leaving a little air of mystery behind him. 99 XV IIAVK to report that I have seen her again ( in a white troek ). and that I am now in the thick ot an emi>arra- ; - smg mistake, and at a loss to kno\v how to get out without making it more em- barrassing. Torresdale. it seems to me. has missed his calling. He should have lived in a former age sometimes I wish he had so that he could have practised intrigue at a French court, instead ot wasting \\].~ talents in petty affairs at Red Hi!:. where we spent the week-end together. At first I was at a loss to understand what he was up to. but now I be ieve I have the key to the little mystery. ! confess, I thought Torresdale man ot 100 MY LOST DUCHESS the world enough not to play games of this sort, but perhaps he sincerely be- lieves he is doing me a good turn. For during our talk on the roof I undoubtedly led him to suppose (or did he deliber- ately lead me to declare?) that I was still interested in Miss Ogden as of course I am and still immune from the prevailing attack of "the pretty gover- ness" as also I am. It is all very juve- nile and absurd, but apparently he has given Miss Rutherford to understand that I am an ardent but helpless admirer ot Miss Ogden; and as a good and glib friend he has solicited her generous and potent aid in my modest behalf with the result that she gracefully but stead- fastly kept out of my way for Constance's sake, except for a few casual moments here and there, which she eagerly devoted to telling how fine and true and good Miss Ogden was, which I knew already. 101 MY U)ST DUCHESS It was not within my power to correct the impression Torresdale had created, without assuming an attitude toward gentle Constance 1 which would have 1 been brutally ungallant. So I could only agree with all her stanch friend said, and hope that the air would be cleared before we left: but it only thickened. This is always a most distasteful situa- tion for a man, especially when it con- cerns a girl one respects and admires as much as I do Miss Ogden. The worst of it is that I cannot bring myself to protest against Torresdale's possibly playful meddling in my affairs because 1 , whatever nun be his game, he apparently means well by me. T should judge from what she said in the few mo- ments I had her to myself that he had spent most of the man}' hours Itc had her to himself in dilating with many phrases upon what a fine fellow T am! 102 MY LOST DUCHESS The first thing she said to me when my brief turn came at last even before she launched forth on the other theme, was '"'I wonder if you appreciate your friend Air. Torresdale as much as he does you !" "I trust so," said I. Her mouth was sober, but there was that suggestion of a smile in her rather remarkable eyes to which Torry had re- ferred on the roof. "And I wonder if you appreciate yourself as much as he does." We were all having tea between sets at the ten- nis-courts, and she was seated at the end of a marble bench there with an arm thrown over the carved back. The arm was in a thin white sleeve. I was on the grass beside her. "Do you?" she asked, swinging the suspended arm. "I trust so," I replied, thinking that I 103 MY LOST !)l C'lIKSS appreciated her a good deal in that posture. "Did you know that he would do any- thing in the world tor youV" "Xo doubt, of it," I replied. "And did you know that you would do anything in the world tor liini?" "Good ot him to say so,'' I answered, wondering. "Yes," she went on, somewhat de- murely, I thought; "you are one ot The 'squarest' fellows he has ever known one of the few friends worth having. Did you reali/e that he had grappled you with hooks of steel V" "I knew that he was a great admirer of" Stevenson's," I replied. "And of yours!" she rejoined again, with the sober mouth and her smiling eyes. "Is it pleasant to be grappled with hooks of steel "i? Does n't it ever hurt?" "It 's the real thing," I said. 104 MY LOST DUCHESS She paused a moment and remarked: "I should think Mr. Torresdale must be extremely fortunate to have such a friend." "You might try it and find out," I suggested. "What he particularly admires about you," she went on, undeterred, and pre- tending to be quite enthusiastic about it, "is that you have no underbrush." "Underbrush?" "No superficial subtleties. Your at- mosphere is not tinted." "Really?" said I. "So glad my atmosphere is n't tainted." "No, tinted." "Oh, tinted; well, go right on!" "You are a vital, elemental person. You have that rare thing nowadays character. And, let me see oh, yes, you have a nature as big and strong and straight as your body, or something to 105 MY LOST DUCHESS that effect." I was stretched out on the grass, and she glanced down toward me. "That makes it pretty big." she added. "The last time I saw you,'" I inter- rupted, regaining a sitting posture, "we talked about \ou. Do you happen to remember*?" "All the more reason tor talking anout something bigger and more important this time." "I enjoyed it," I demurred. "Enjoyed which ?" "The other subject." "You know you like this one all men do." And I did a little, but I had had enough. "Did you know you were all that?" she asked. "Did n't you?" "That is n't half of it," she answered, "only I 've forgotten the rest." "Very well, suppose we let it go at 106 MY LOST DUCHESS that. I am a wonder. Now, how about you?" "Oh, yes, I recall : you have a clear head, a logical mind, and need only to be awakened to find yourself and become an ornament to your profession. The dear! Is n't she wonderful?" The governess had suddenly turned and was now ga/ing with unrestrained admiration at Constance, who at that moment was dispensing tea with the gentle dignity we all admire in her. She made a cool and pleasant picture there with the silver and white of the table against the deep green foliage beyond. "That is the way with everything she does," said Mademoiselle; "she makes it seem so gracious and right." I agreed with all she said and did not try to change the subject, for it seemed so unkind to do so, though this did not hap- pen to be what I wanted to talk about 107 MY LOST DUCHESS just then. My silence, however, she evi- dently construechis reticence, tor her earn- estness tell away and she stopped with a knowing smile. "I don't see why you smile." I re- marked. ''Oh, I 'm not smiling at her I 'm smiling at you." And she continued to do so. "There is nothing very subtle about you, is there?" and looked upon me with qui'/y.ical amusement, reminding me of the look I have seen girls bestow upon men announcing their engagements. There always seems to be a jeer in that look. But not a word did she say to me about her work or herself though I later overheard her talking earnestly with Torry about both. T suppose from the temperament and training he can better understand each of these interesting sub- jects. One afternoon on the Avenue she 108 MY LOST DUCHESS informed me that life was too short to bother with those who did not under- stand. But I, too, should be interested to hear as much as she might be willing to tell me about the progress of her art, even though I may be guilty of having a con- ventional view of it. I should be very glad to be of service to her, if she should allow, for I want her to succeed in her chosen career as much as I want her to keep out of it. And this shows incident- ally how absolutely objective my atti- tude toward her is, for if I were senti- mental about this girl, which I am not, I would want her to fail. But I do not. If I were in love with her I would put obstacles in her path. But I do not. If I were in love with her I would lose appetite, lose sleep, lose interest in other people. But I do not any of these things. So I am immune. Therefore I can say 109 MY LOST DUCHESS with perfect candor that I desired to see more of her than she allowed, and that Torresdale's complacent way of shunting me off toward Constance and the other> while he quietly monopoli'/.ed the gov- erness rather got on my nerves. I par- ticularly loath the type of man who creates a vulgar scramble tor a girl. I did n't think it of Torresdale. It seems so bucolic. So T became more silent and inert as the visit progressed. 110 XVI was on the yacht the next day that she said to me: "Oh, men are so queer !' : "A very original remark," I observed to myself, for I felt unac- countably provoked with her, too. "How so?" I asked, looking charmed at her cleverness. "Because they are either too con- ceited," I followed her eyes across the deck, and as I live and am a villain, I was glad to see Torresdale there "or else," she went on, turning her eyes toward me, "or else they are too modest." "I don't see how I can be that after all you told me about myself." "Who said I meant you? That clearly puts you in the other class." ill MY LOST DUCHESS "But,'' I said gravely, "vou did mean me." "Yes, T meant you," she said. "But you are quite wrong. You see now, don't you?'' "Not in all ways,'' she said, looking across the deek again. This time I saw Constance leaning forward in her deck chair listening to the "interesting Mr. Torresdale," as they call him. in the most interested manner. Remembering my mistake of the da}" before. I determined this time not to keep silent. "Is n't she complete?" I said to Miss Rutherford. "Plow she looks her part!" At first the governess laughed softly to herself. "It. is hardly necessary," she said, "to ask who you 're talking about." She paused and added, "She is the won- derfullest, the truest, the finest, and the best," said Miss Rutherford; "and I know girls pretty well, even if T 1 12 MY LOST DUCHESS wish there were a word meaning coquetry without suggesting a sentimental smirk of the vintage of 18^0, then perhaps I could tell you how she looked when she added: "even if I don't understand men." "But don't you?" I asked. "I had an idea that they were all easy to you; that }ou just, gave them one look and knew all about them." "Not always," she said, and smiled in a way to say, "You know what I mean though you pretend you do not." But I did not know and looked back blankly. "I did not understand you at first," she said, "and you, you know, are quite elemental." "Suppose you interpret," said I. "The object of speech, as I take it, is to express thought, not conceal it." "Then why don't you?" she rejoined, MY LOST DUCHESS and with that cryptic- reply the ^ r ov- erness, wlio sccnis to be the commodore <>t this afternoon's cruise, took it into her head to make a tack, to ju^le up the members ot the ])arty in the quiet unos- tentatious way some women have, with the result that 1 found niyseli beside Con- stance, and heard Torresdale addressing Miss Rutherford in his ^ r lib manner: "My dear Miss Rutherford, the days of Galahads " the rest of it I did n't hear. With men he 's a ^ood enough fellow, but in a crowd of women he always throws on a lot of unnecessary lu^s. All the same I noticed that, the gov- erness looked up at him with the most charmed expression as though thinking. "What a relief!" "Is n't it nice when two very congenial people, ^et together V" said Constance. She talks very rapidly. I turned and looked into her sweet, 114 MY LOST DUCHESS gracious face. "Those two, I mean," she said, and added, "I have been hearing such pleasant things about you." "Good heavens, more!' thought I. "Torry is an awfully fine fellow, too!" I said, smiling. "How in the world did you know it was Mr. Torresdale?" Constance has a charming puzzled expression; she is al- ways so unconscious about it. "Because it is just like him," I replied. "Is n't if?" she exclaimed in her quick way, though usually I must confess she is not so enthusiastic as I am about Torry. "He is afraid, though, that you don't take yourself seriously enough." "How so?" "Down-town, for instance." "Oh, yes, I do besides, there would be plenty of others to make up for my lack of it, Constance." 115 MY LOST 1)1 CIIKSS ''^ ou must not he content with any- thing but a very great succe'ss. I would so like to sec -you do something, ^i ou can." "Somehow you always make me iecl as though I could," 1 said I. "Kvery one says you can," she replied quickly. ''Just watch me hereafter," 1 answered laughing. "I will," she said. "I will see that you don't take an}" more whole after- noons to take us to luncheon, a< you did the other day in town. That was very wrong. But mother never reah/es things, and I am afraid 1 forgot. I don't know what we would do without Ilulda, she is the general manager of the whole family/ 1 Constance looked far across the water at the lighthouse on the point. "How do you like her. XickY" she added. "Is n't she beautiful V" I 16 MY LOST DUCHESS "Yes, indeed." ''She admires you so much." "Another? Oh, Lord! I am glad to know that I am such a fine fellow." "Site has been talking to me about you," said Constance, ignoring my re- mark. "She says you are true." "I would like to be," I added, glancing as I had been doing all through our talk across the deck. '"Look at him. I am afraid your governess is playing the devil with Torresdale." "He can take care of himself," she said. "I believe he does," I added. "But somehow I like him better than I ever did before," she said, and then, quite abruptly for her, she turned and ran to the pilot-house to say it was time to go home for dinner. But I saw that she was blushing and that she did not want me to see it 117 MY LOST DUCHESS I suppose she. too. is becoming inter- ested in Mr. Torre-chile ami did n't want me to micss it. But I did! XVII >T was Torresdale who told me they were hack in town again, and I was very glad to know it as I had not seen them tor a rather long time. I had been off on my vacation which did not come until the fall of the year because the head of the firm was abroad, and the upper underlings in the office wanted their vacations first. Torresdale invited me to dine with him to celebrate my return, he said; but that, was not the reason as I soon saw. It was a good dinner. His dinners always have distinction, even when com- posed of the simplest courses. He once told me that I was quite devoid of a gas- tronomic instinct, but that he had hopes 119 MY LOST DUCHESS of inculcating in my midst an adequate standard of appreciation to go through life with. "''They have come back to town.," Torn' said, with the oysters, lie never lets you have a cocktail, it he knows you well enough to refuse. ''[ don't mind the assault upon the stomach." he says, ''but I do object to the insult to the food about to find its way there. My dinners need no cocktail," he said, and added: "The}- have come back." "Who the oysters V" I asked, inno- cently enough. "The Ogdens," he said. "Please, tor my sake, don't use Tobasco. That 's a good fellow. Thank you." "I had a great time up in Maine," I said, and told him about it all through dinner, which consisted of oysters, clear soup, terrapin, canvasbacks with browned hominy, celery salad, Camem- 120 MY LOST DUCHESS bert and coffee. Champagne all the way through, and that 's all. But ! The oysters were all of one size and color, thoroughly cooled all the way through, but not half fro/en; the soup had substance and distinction in its clar- ity; the terrapin was specially prepared tor him in a special way, and tasted like terrapin rather than Maryland; the ducks (which he said were not really can- vasbacks, but redheads, though he would not send them back it I did not object, and I did n't) were cooked but nine min- utes; the celery salad was made out of only the most succulent parts of the stalks (neither the hearts nor the greenish ends) ; the cheese was ripe and inclined to run; the coffee was made in a special pot for him, dripped through I don't know how many times; and the champagne was '89 Veuve Cliquot where he found it I don't know. There was no other wine, 121 MY LOST DUCHESS not even Burgundy with the duck. Af- ter dinner he gave me a little very old brandy in a very big goblet. You would be surprised if T told where' this dinner was, because it is by no niean> a well-known dining-place. We did not go to the club because we wanted to talk uninterruptedly. Tt was one of the older, smaller hotels on the Avenue no longer considered smart; a dignified if some- what passe house whose apartments were occupied mostly by flabby women, judg- ing from the majority of the tables about us. They ate listlessly and some ot them read books between courses. "I see why you brought me to this joint," I whispered to Torn', indicating a neighboring table. "That is not the only reason," smiled Torry recogni'/ing as T had done the fa- miliar cover of one of his own books. "To be read by vapid souls like that- 122 MY LOST DUCHESS what a trade, what, a trade ! No, I brought you to this quiet place "So we should not be bothered by peo- ple who know you'?" I suggested. "I had n't thought of that," he replied. "I like to be known, I like to be both- ered. No, it was because at the popular restaurants nowadays I rind that there are so many other personal orders sent down to the chef that, these things could n't receive the delicate attention they require to make them worth while. Anybody can order a dinner; it is n't what you send down, but what they bring up, which makes or mars a dinner. Like all other arts it takes complete ab- sorption, the real personality of the artist, to make not an apparent but a real success. There are a surprising num- ber of fairly excellent cooks in New York with a real feeling for their work, plenty for one city full of philistines, but the 123 MY LOST DICHKSS trouble is to