UC-NRLF 
 
 B ^ 701 MM? 
 
 
 HIS 
 FORTUNATE 
 
 GRACE 
 
 
 
SANTA CRUZ 
 
HIS FORTUNATE GRACE 
 
l)i$ fortunate Grace 
 
 Gertrude fltberton 
 
 Hutbor of H WWri Hamder, be Doomswoman, 
 
 Patience Sparbawb and her times, 
 
 Before tlx Qringo Came, etc. 
 
 Vork 
 S. JippUfon and Company 
 
 IW7 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1897, 
 BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. 
 
PS 
 
 TO 
 
 ALEECE VAN BERGEN. 
 
HIS FORTUNATE GRACE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 "ARE you quite sure?" Mr. Forbes laid 
 down his newspaper, and looked with slightly 
 extended mouth at his daughter who leaned 
 forward in an attitude of suppressed energy, 
 her hands clasped on the edge of the breakfast- 
 table. The heiress of many millions was not 
 handsome: her features were large and her 
 complexion dull; but she had the carriage and 
 'air' of the New York girl of fashion, and 
 wore a French morning- toilette which would 
 have ameliorated a Gorgon. 
 
 "Quite sure, papa." 
 
 " I suppose you have studied the question 
 exhaustively." 
 
Ijis fortunate (Srace. 
 
 "Oh, yes, indeed. I have read Karl Marx 
 and Henry George and a lot of others. I 
 suppose you have not forgotten that I belong 
 to a club of girls who aspire to be something 
 more than fashionable butterflies, and that we 
 read together ? " 
 
 "And you are also positive that you wish 
 me to divide my fortune with my fellow-men, 
 and deprive you of the pleasant position of 
 heiress ? " 
 
 " Perfectly positive," firmly. "It is terri- 
 ble, terrible to think of the starving thousands. 
 I feel it my duty to tell you, papa, that if you 
 do not do this yourself, I shall when when 
 but I cannot even think of that." 
 
 "No; don't worry about it I'm good for 
 twenty or thirty years yet 
 
 "You are the handsomest and most dis- 
 tinguished-looking man in New York." 
 
 "Thanks. To proceed: I should say that 
 you are likely to be several things meanwhile. 
 
IJis Jicrrtmtate (5>race. 
 
 I don't know that 1 shall even take the trouble 
 to alter my will. Still, I may that is unless 
 you convert me. And you are also convinced 
 that women should have the vote?" 
 
 "Yes! Yes! Indeed I am. I know all 
 the arguments for and against. I've heard 
 and read everything. You see, if we get the 
 vote we can bring Socialism about quite 
 easily." 
 
 "Without the slightest difficulty, I should 
 say, considering the homogeneity of the 
 feminine mind." 
 
 "You darling sarcastic thing. But can't 
 you see what weight such women as we are 
 interesting in the cause must have ? We 
 have carefully excluded the nouveau riche ; 
 only the very oldest and most notable names 
 will be on our petition when we get it up." 
 
 " Oh, you are going to get up a petition ? 
 Well, let that pass for the present. Suppose 
 you fall in love and want to marry ? " 
 
fortunate 0>roxe. 
 
 "I shall tell him everything. What I 
 intend to make of my life do with what 
 wealth I have at my disposal. If he does 
 not sympathize with me and agree to my 
 plans, he must go. A woman's chief end 
 is not matrimony." 
 
 " I need not ask if you have ever been 
 in love ? " 
 
 "Oh, of course, I want to be, dreadfully. 
 All women do even we advanced women 
 now, papa! I don't love you quite so well 
 when you smile like that. I am twenty-one, 
 and that is quite old for a girl who has been 
 highly educated, has travelled, and been out 
 two years. I have a right to call myself ad- 
 vanced, because I have gone deliberately into 
 the race, and have read up a great deal, even 
 if I have as yet accomplished nothing. Ex- 
 actly how much are you worth, papa ? " 
 
 " Broadly speaking, about thirty millions. 
 As a great deal of that is in railroad and other 
 
is fortunate <S>racc. 
 
 stock, I am liable to be worth much less any 
 day; much is also in land, which is worth 
 only what it will bring. Still, I should 
 say that I am reasonably sure of a fair 
 amount." 
 
 ' 'It is terrible, papa! All that land! Do 
 give some of it at least to the poor dear 
 people I assure you we feel that we have 
 taken them under our wing, and have grown 
 quite sentimental over them. Mr. George 
 would tell you what to do, at once. That 
 man's very baggy knees fascinate me: he is so 
 magnificently in earnest. When he scolded 
 us all for being rich, the other day at the 
 meeting, I loved him." 
 
 " It is a great relief to me that George is a 
 married man. Well, my dear, your allowance 
 is ten thousand dollars a year. Do what you 
 please with it, and come to me if your fads 
 and whims demand more. God forbid that 
 I should stand in the way of any woman's 
 
fortunate 
 
 happiness. By the by, what does your 
 
 mother think of this business ? " 
 "She is most unsympathetic." 
 "So I should imagine," said Mr. Forbes, 
 
 drily. " Your mother is the cleverest woman 
 
 I know." 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 AFTER luncheon, Miss Forbes hied herself 
 to a drawing-room meeting 'in behalf of 
 Socialism. Despite the fact that she had 
 elected the role of mental muscularity, she 
 gave studious application to her attire: her 
 position and all that pertained to it were 
 her enduring religion; the interests of the 
 flashing seasons were unconsciously patron- 
 ised rather than assimilated. As she walked 
 up the Avenue toward the house of her 
 friend, Mrs. Latimer Burr, she looked like 
 a well-grown lad masquerading in a very 
 smart outfit of brown tweed, so erect and 
 soldierly was her carriage, so independent 
 her little stride. A bunch of violets was 
 
 pinned to her muff, another at her throat, 
 7 
 
8 is fortunate 
 
 and she wore a severe little toque instead 
 of the picture-hat she usually affected. 
 
 She smiled as she swung along, and one 
 or two women looked back at her and 
 sighed. She was quite happy. She had 
 never known an ungratified wish; she was 
 spoken of in the newspapers as one of the 
 few intellectual young women in New York 
 society; and now she had a really serious 
 object in life. She felt little spasms of 
 gratification that she had been born to set 
 the world to rights she and a few others: 
 she felt that she was not selfish, for she 
 grudged no one a share in the honours. 
 
 When she reached Mrs. Burr's house, high 
 on the Avenue, and overlooking the naked 
 trees and the glittering white of the Park, 
 she found that other toilettes had taken less 
 time than hers: several of her friends com- 
 plimented the occasion with a punctuality 
 which she commended without envy. 
 
is fortunate 
 
 The large drawing-room, which was to be 
 the scene of operations, was a marvellous 
 combination of every pale colour known to 
 nature and art, and looked expectant of 
 white-wigged dames, sparkling with satin 
 and diamonds, tripping the mazes of the 
 minuet with gentlemen as courtly as their 
 dress was rich and colourous. But only a 
 half-dozen extremely smart young women 
 of the hoary Nineteenth Century sat in a 
 group, talking as fast as seals on a rock; 
 and the slim little hostess was compactly 
 gowned in pearl-grey cloth, her sleek head 
 dressed in the fashion of the moment. 
 
 She came forward, a lorgnette held close 
 to her eyes. "How dear of you, Augusta, 
 to be so prompt ! " she said, kissing her 
 lightly. "Dear me! I wish I could be as 
 frightfully in earnest as the rest of you, 
 but for the life of me I can't help feeling 
 that it's all a jolly good lark perhaps that's 
 
io tyis for innate (Bmue. 
 
 the effect of my ex-sister-in-law, Patience 
 Sparhawk, who says we are only playing 
 at being alive. But we can't all have 
 seventeen different experiences before we 
 are twenty-four, including a sojourn in 
 Murders' Row, and a frantic love affair 
 with one's own husband - " 
 
 "Tell me, Hal, what is a woman like who 
 has been through all that ? " interrupted Au- 
 gusta, her ears pricking with girlish curi- 
 osity. "Is she eccentric? Does she look 
 old or something?" 
 
 "She's not much like us," said Mrs. Burr, 
 briefly. "You'll meet her in time; it's odd 
 you never happened to, even if you weren't 
 out. Of course she can't go out for a while 
 yet; it would hardly be good taste, even if she 
 wanted to." 
 
 "How interestingly dreadful to have had 
 such a thing in the family. But I should think 
 she would be just the one to take life seriously. " 
 
^is fartnnate (Stare. n 
 
 "Oh, she does; that's the reason she 
 doesn't waste any time. Here is someone 
 else. Who is it? oh, Mary Gallatin." 
 
 Augusta joined the group. 
 
 " Where is Mabel Creighton ? " demanded 
 one of the girls. " I thought she was coming 
 with you." 
 
 " Haven't you heard ?" Miss Forbes, with 
 an air of elaborate indifference, drew her eye- 
 lids together as if to focus a half-dozen women 
 that were entering. " The Duke of Bosworth 
 arrives to-day, and she has stayed at home to 
 receive him." 
 
 " Augusta! What do you mean? What 
 Duke of Bosworth ? " 
 
 "There is only one duke of the same name 
 at a time, my dear. This is the Duke of Bos- 
 worth of Aire Castle and I suppose a half- 
 dozen others of the West Riding, of the dis- 
 trict of Craven, of the County of Yorkshire, 
 England. He has five other titles, I believe; 
 
 2 
 
12 fjis fortunate <&race. 
 
 and enjoys the honour of the friendship of 
 Fletcher Cuyler." 
 
 "Well!" 
 
 " Mabel met him abroad, and got to know 
 him quite well; and when he wrote her that 
 he should arrive to-day, she thought it only 
 hospitable to stay at home and receive 
 him." 
 
 "Are they engaged? Augusta, do be an 
 angel." 
 
 "1 am sure I have not the slightest idea 
 whether they are engaged or not. Mabel 
 always has a flirtation on with somebody." 
 
 " What is he like ? How perfectly funny ! 
 How quiet she has kept him. Is he good- 
 looking or well, just like some of the 
 others?" 
 
 " Mabel has merely mentioned him to me, 
 and I have not seen his photograph." 
 
 "She'd make a lovely bride; and Mrs. 
 Creighton has such exquisite taste St. Thom- 
 
fortunate (Stars. 13 
 
 as' would be a dream. I suppose he'll wear a 
 grey suit with the trousers turned up and a 
 pink shirt. I do hope he won't walk up the 
 Avenue with her with a big black cigar in his 
 mouth." 
 
 'Ms that what we came here to talk 
 about ? " asked Miss Forbes, severely. 
 "What difference does it make what a foreign 
 titled thing looks like ? We are here to dis- 
 cuss a question which will one day extermi- 
 nate the entire order." 
 
 "True," exclaimed a dark-haired distin- 
 guished-looking girl who was mainly respon- 
 sible for the intellectual reputation of her set, 
 albeit not exempt from the witchery of fads. 
 "We must stop gossipping and attend to 
 business. Do you know that I am expected 
 to speak? How am I to collect my 
 thoughts ? " 
 
 "You have so many, Alex," said Miss 
 Forbes, admiringly, "that it wouldn't matter 
 
14 $is ^Fortunate (3>rar*. 
 
 if a few got loose. Have you prepared your 
 speech? I have mine by heart." 
 
 "I have thought it out. I don't think I 
 shall be frightened; it is really such a very 
 serious matter." 
 
 "Have you spoken to your father?" 
 
 "Oh, we've talked it over, but I can't say 
 that he agrees with us." 
 
 Augusta laughed consciously. "There are 
 probably some points of similarity in our ex- 
 periences. But we must be firm." 
 
 Some thirty women, gowned with fashion- 
 able simplicity, had arrived, and were seated 
 in a large double semi-circle. They looked 
 alert and serious. Mrs. Burr drifted aimlessly 
 about for a moment, then paused before a table 
 and tapped it smartly with her lorgnette. 
 
 "I suppose we may as well begin," she 
 said. "I believe we are going to discuss to- 
 day the a the advisability of women having 
 the vote franchise. Also Socialism. Miss 
 
ijjis fortnnate 
 
 Maitland, who has thoroughly digested both 
 subjects, and many more, has kindly con- 
 sented to speak; and Dr. Broadhead is coming 
 in later to give us one of his good scoldings. 
 Alexandra, will you open the ball? " 
 
 "Hal, you are incorrigible," exclaimed 
 Miss Maitland, drawing her dark brows to- 
 gether. " At least you might pretend to be in 
 earnest. We think it very good of you to 
 lend us your house, and we are delighted that 
 you managed Dr. Broadhead so cleverly, but 
 we don't wish to be flouted, for we, at least, 
 are in earnest." 
 
 "Alexis, if you scold me, I shall cry. And 
 I'll now be serious I swear it. You know I 
 admire you to death. Your French poetry is 
 adorable ; you have more ideas for decorating 
 than any professional in New York, and Vou 
 fence like a real Amazon. I am simply dying 
 to hear you make a speech ; but first let me 
 see if Latimer is hiding anywhere." 
 
1 6 is fortunate 
 
 She went out into the hall and returned in 
 a moment. " It would be just like Latimer to 
 get Fletcher Cuyler and listen, and then guy 
 us. Now, Alexandra, proceed," and she 
 seated herself, and applied her lorgnette to her 
 bright quizzical eyes. 
 
 Miss Maitland, somewhat embarrassed by 
 her introduction, stepped to the middle of the 
 room and faced her audience. She gave a 
 quick sidelong glance at her skirts. They 
 stood out like a yacht under full sail. She was 
 a fine looking girl, far above woman's height, 
 with dignified features, a bright happy expres- 
 sion, and a soft colour. She was a trifle nerv- 
 ous, and opened her jacket to gain time, 
 throwing it back. 
 
 "That's a Paquin blouse," whispered a 
 girl confidently to Augusta. 
 
 "Sh-h!" said Miss Forbes severely. 
 
 Miss Maitland showed no further symptom 
 of nervousness. She clasped her hands lightly 
 
Iji0 fortunate <&race. 17 
 
 and did not make a gesture nor shift her posi- 
 tion during her speech. Her repose was very 
 impressive. 
 
 "I think we should vote," she said decid- 
 edly. "It will not be agreeable in many 
 respects, and will heavily increase our respon- 
 sibilities, but the reasons for far outweigh 
 those against. A good many of us have 
 money in our own names. We all have large 
 allowances. Some day we may have the ter- 
 rible responsibility of great wealth. The in- 
 come-tax is in danger of being defeated. If 
 we get the vote, we may do much toward 
 making it a law, and it is a move in the right 
 direction towards Socialism. Our next must 
 be towards persuading the Government to 
 take the railroads. It is shocking that the 
 actual costs of transit should be so small, the 
 charges so exorbitant and the profits so enor- 
 mous. I feel this so oppressively that every 
 time I make a long journey by rail, I give the 
 
1 8 |jis JForttmate (Srace. 
 
 equivalent of my fare to the poor at once. It 
 is a horrifying thing that we on this narrow 
 island of New York city should live like hot- 
 house plants in the midst of a malarious 
 swamp: that almost at our back doors the 
 poor are living, whole families in one room, 
 and on one meal a day. My father gives me 
 many thousands a year for charity, but charity 
 is not the solution of the problem. There 
 must be a redistribution of wealth. Of course 
 I have no desire to come down to poverty; I 
 am physically unfit for it, as are all of us. We 
 should have sufficient left to insure our com- 
 fort ; but any woman with brain can get along 
 without the more extravagant luxuries. It is 
 time that we did something to justify our ex- 
 istence, and if the law required that we 
 worked two or three hours a day instead of 
 
 leading the idle life of pleasure that we 
 
 j >. 
 
 " We are ornamental; that is something," 
 
fortunate (&>r<ue. 19 
 
 exclaimed a remarkably pretty woman. "I 
 am sure the people outside love to read about 
 and look at us. Society gossip is not written 
 for us." 
 
 Miss Maitland smiled. "You certainly are 
 ornamental, Mary," she said; "but fancy how 
 much more interesting you would be if you 
 were useful as well." 
 
 "I'd lose my good looks." 
 
 "Well, you can't keep them for ever. You 
 should cultivate a substitute meanwhile, and 
 then you never need be driven back into the 
 ranks of passte, disappointed women. Faded 
 beauties are a bore to everybody." 
 
 "I refuse to contemplate such a prospect. 
 Alex, you are getting to be a horrid rude ad- 
 vanced New Woman." 
 
 Mrs. Burr clapped her hands. " How de- 
 lightful !" she cried, "I didn't know we were 
 to have a debate." 
 
 "Now keep quiet, all of you," said Miss 
 
20 4is .fortunate 
 
 Maitland; "I have not finished. Mary Galla- 
 tin, don't you interrupt me again. Now that 
 we understand this question so thoroughly, 
 we must have more recruits. Of course, hun- 
 dreds of women of the upper class are signing 
 the petition asking for the extension of the 
 franchise to our sex, but few of them are inter- 
 ested in Socialism. And if it is to be brought 
 about, it must be by us. I have little faith in 
 the rag-tag bob-tail element at present enlisted 
 in that cause. They not only carry little 
 weight with the more intelligent part of the 
 community, but I have been assured that they 
 would not fight that they take it out in talk; 
 that if ever there was a great upheaval, they 
 would let the anarchists do the killing, and 
 then step in, and try to get control later. 
 
 "Now, I thoroughly despise a coward; so 
 do all women; and I have no faith in the 
 propagandism of men that won't fight. 
 What we must do is to enlist our men. 
 
fis fortunate <race. 21 
 
 They are luxurious now, and love all that 
 pertains to wealth; but, as Wellington said 
 once of the same class in England : ' The 
 puppies can fight ! ' Not that our men are 
 puppies don't misunderstand me but you 
 know what I mean. They would only 
 seem so to a man who had spent his life 
 in the saddle. 
 
 "It has been said that the Civil War took 
 our best blood, and that that is the reason 
 we have no great men now; all the most 
 gallant and high-minded and ambitious were 
 killed although I don't forget that Mr. 
 Forbes could be anything that he chose. 
 I suppose he thinks that American states- 
 manship has fallen so low that he scorns 
 to come out avowedly as the head of his 
 party, and merely amuses himself pulling 
 the wires. But I feel positive that if a 
 tremendous crisis ever arose, it would be 
 Mr. Forbes who would unravel the snarl. 
 
22 jjjis fortunate (Smite. 
 
 You can tell him that, Augusta, with my 
 compliments. 
 
 "Now, I have come to the real point of 
 what I have to say. It was first suggested 
 to me by Helena Belmont when she was on 
 here last, and it has taken a strong hold 
 on my mind. We must awaken the soul 
 in our men that is what they lack. The 
 germ is there, but it has not been devel- 
 oped; perhaps I should say that the soul 
 of the American people rose to its full 
 flower during the Civil War, and then 
 withered in the reaction, and in the com- 
 mercial atmosphere which has since fitted 
 our nation closer than its own skin. Miss 
 Belmont says that nothing will arouse the 
 men but another war; that they will be 
 nothing but a well-fed body with a men- 
 tal annex until they once more have a 
 'big atmosphere' to expand in. But I 
 don't wholly agree with her, and the 
 
Ijis Jortnnate <$race. 23 
 
 thought of another such sacrifice is appall- 
 ing. I believe that the higher qualities in 
 man can be roused more * surely by woman 
 than by bloodshed, and that if we, the 
 women of New York, the supposed orchids, 
 butterflies, or whatever people choose to call 
 us, whose luxury is the cynosure and envy 
 of the continent, could be instrumental in 
 giving back to the nation its lost spiritual 
 quality understand, please, that I do not 
 use the word in its religious sense it 
 would be a far greater achievement than 
 any for which the so-called emancipated 
 women are vociferating. The vote is a 
 minor consideration. If we acquire the in- 
 fluence over men that we should, we shall 
 not need it. And personally, I should dis- 
 pense with it with great pleasure." 
 
 "Bravo ! young lady," exclaimed a vibrat- 
 ing resonant voice, and a clerical man en- 
 tered the room to the clapping of many 
 
24 ipis fortunate 
 
 hands. His eyes were keen and restless, 
 his hair and beard black and silver, and 
 there was a curious disconcerting bald spot 
 on his chin. He looked ready to burst with 
 energy. 
 
 "Thank you all very much, but don't 
 clap any more, for I have only a few 
 minutes to spare. How do you do, Mrs. 
 Burr? Yes, that was a very good speech 
 I have been eavesdropping, you see. Fem- 
 inine, but I am the last to quarrel with 
 that. It is not necessary for a woman to 
 be logical so long as her instincts are in 
 the right direction. Well, I will say a few 
 words to you; but they must be few as I 
 am very hoarse: I have been speaking all 
 day." He strode about as he talked, and 
 occasionally smote his hands together. He 
 was a very emphatic speaker, and, like all 
 crusaders, somewhat theatrical. 
 
 " I agree with all that Miss Maitland has 
 
fortunate t&ratt. 25 
 
 said to you with the exception of her 
 views on Socialism. I don't believe Social- 
 ism to be the solution of our loathsome 
 municipal degradation nor of the universal 
 social evil. But I have no time to go into 
 that question to-day. The other part that 
 you must awaken the soul of the men of 
 your class I most heartily endorse. The 
 gentlemen alone can save this country 
 snatch it from the hands of plebeians and 
 thieves. In them alone lies the hope of 
 American regeneration. When I read of a 
 strapping young man who has been edu- 
 cated at Harvard, or Yale, or Princeton, 
 who is an expert boxer, fencer, whip, oars- 
 man, yachtsman, addicted to all manly 
 sport, in fact when I read of such a man 
 having tortoise-shell brushes with diamond 
 monograms, diamond garter buckles, and 
 thirty sets of silk pyjamas never see their 
 names in the paper except as ushers at 
 
26 |)is fortunate (0>race. 
 
 weddings, or as having added some new 
 trifle to fc their costly apartments, it makes 
 me sick sick ! A war would rouse these 
 young men, as Miss Maitland suggests; I 
 haven't the slightest doubt that they would 
 fight magnificently, and that those who sur- 
 vived would be serious and useful men for 
 the rest of their lives. But we don't want 
 war, and you must do the rousing. Make 
 them vote vote nullify the thieving lying 
 cormorants who are fattening on your coun- 
 try, and ruining it morally and financially, 
 as well as making it the scorn and jest of 
 Europe. And make them vote, not only 
 this year, but every year for the rest of 
 their lives, and on every possible question. 
 It is to be hoped, indeed, that no war will 
 come to awaken their manhood we don't 
 want to pay so hideous a price as that, 
 and it is shocking that it has been found 
 necessary to suggest it. But what we do 
 
IJis ^fortunate (State. 27 
 
 want is a great moral war. Lash them into 
 that, and see that they do not break ranks 
 until they have honest men in the legis- 
 lature, in Congress, and in every municipal 
 office in the country. Now, I must be off," 
 and waving a hasty adieu, he shot out. 
 
 "For my part," said Mrs. Burr, above 
 the enthusiastic chorus, "I am delighted 
 that he didn't uphold Socialism. I'll under- 
 take the reformation of Latimer, although 
 it will probably give me wrinkles and turn 
 me grey, but I won't have him giving up 
 his ' boodle,' as they say out West; not I ! 
 not I ! " 
 
 "Gaily is hopeless," said that famous 
 clubman's wife, with a sigh. " I shall have 
 to work on someone else." 
 
 "It will be lots more interesting," mur- 
 mured her neighbour. 
 
 "How shall we begin?" asked Mrs. 
 Burr, wrinkling her smooth brow. " Put 
 
28 4gi0 fortunate 0>race; 
 
 them on gruel and hot water for awhile? 
 I am sure they are hopeless so long as 
 they eat and drink so much." 
 
 "I suppose all we girls will have to 
 marry," remarked one of them. 
 
 "Well, you would, anyhow," said Mrs. 
 Burr, consolingly. 
 
 " I shall not marry until I find the right 
 man," said Augusta firmly, "not if I die 
 an old maid. But father would be a splen- 
 did convert, and his name would carry 
 great weight." 
 
 "You mean for Socialism," replied her 
 hostess. "No man does his political duty 
 more religiously than Mr. Forbes. But let 
 us send Socialism to ahem and just work 
 at the other thing. I am dying to see how 
 Latimer will take it." 
 
 "Never!" exclaimed Augusta, and was 
 echoed loyally. "We must not lose sight 
 of that. I don't at all agree with Dr. 
 
flis fortunate <&>rare. 29 
 
 Broadhead on that point. I have fully 
 made up my mind to bring papa round." 
 
 "But you are at a disadvantage, darling," 
 said Mrs. Burr, drily; "your beautiful mam- 
 ma thinks we are all a pack of idiots, and 
 your father has a great respect for her 
 opinion, to say nothing of being more or 
 less tpris" 
 
 "\ shall convert her too," said Augusta 
 sturdily. 
 
 Mrs. Burr laughed outright. "I can just 
 see Mrs. Forbes posing as a prophet of Social- 
 ism. Well, let us eat. Alexis, you must be 
 limp all the way down, and your thinker 
 must be fairly staggering. I will pour you a 
 stiff cup of tea and put some rum in it." 
 
 Augusta rose. "I must go, Hal," she 
 said. " I have a speech to make myself in 
 the slums, you know. Aren't you com- 
 ing?" 
 
 "I? God forbid! But do take some- 
 
30 
 
 thing before you go. It may save you 
 from stage-fright." 
 
 "I haven't a minute. I must be there 
 in twenty. Who is coming with me?" 
 
 Eight or ten of the company rose and 
 hurried out with her; the rest gathered 
 about the tea-table and relieved their men- 
 tal tension in amicable discussion of the 
 lighter matters of the day. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 A FOOTMAN had taken the Duke of Bos- 
 worth's cards up to Miss Mabel Creighton and 
 her mother. The young man had arrived but 
 an hour before and still wore his travelling 
 gear, but had been given to understand that 
 an English peer was welcome in a New York 
 drawing-room on any terms. The drawing- 
 room in which he awaited the American 
 maiden who had taken his attenuated fancy 
 was large and sumptuous and very expensive. 
 There were tables of ormolu, and cabinets of 
 tortoise-shell containing collections of cameos, 
 fans and miniatures, a lapis lazuli clock three 
 feet high, and a piano inlaid with twenty- 
 seven different woods. The walls were fres- 
 coed by a famous hand, and there were lamps 
 31 
 
32 flis fortunate (Brace. 
 
 and candle-brackets and various articles of 
 decoration which must have been picked up 
 in extensive travels. 
 
 The Duke noted everything with his slow 
 listless gaze. He sat forward on the edge of 
 his 'chair, his chin pressed to the head of his 
 stick. He was a small delicately-built man, 
 of thirty or more. His shoulders had rounded 
 slightly. His cheeks and lower lip were be- 
 ginning to droop. The pale blue eyes were 
 dim, the lids red. He was a debauchee, but 
 "a good sort," and men liked him. 
 
 He did not move during the quarter of an 
 hour he was kept waiting, but when the 
 portiere was pushed aside he rose quickly, and 
 went forward with much grace and charm of 
 manner. The girl who entered was a dainty 
 blonde fluffy creature, and looked like a bit of 
 fragile china in the palatial room. 
 
 "How sweet of you to come so soon," 
 she said, with frank pleasure. "I did not ex- 
 
i0 fortunate (Brace. 33 
 
 pect you for an hour yet. Mamma will be 
 down presently. She is quite too awfully 
 anxious to meet you." 
 
 The Duke resumed his seat and leaned 
 back this time, regarding Miss Creighton 
 through half-closed eyes. His expression was 
 much the same as when he had inventoried 
 the room. 
 
 "I came to America to see you," he 
 said. 
 
 The colour flashed to her hair, but she 
 smiled gracefully. "How funny! Just as if 
 you had run over to pay me an afternoon call. 
 Did the trip bore you much?" 
 
 ' ' I am always bored at sea when I am not 
 ill. I am usually ill." 
 
 "Oh! Really? How horrid! I am never 
 ill. I always find the trip rather jolly. I go 
 over to shop, and that would keep me up if 
 nothing else did. Well, I think it was very 
 good indeed of you awfully good to brave 
 
34 flis fortunate 
 
 the horrors of the deep, or rather of your 
 state-room, just to call on me." 
 
 She had a babyish voice and a delightful 
 manner. The Duke smiled. He was really 
 rather glad to see her again. "You were 
 good enough to ask me to call if I ever came 
 over," he said, " and it occurred to me that it 
 would be a jolly thing to do. I only had little 
 detached chats with you over there, and there 
 were always a lot of Johnnies hanging about. 
 I felt interested to see you in your own sur- 
 roundings." 
 
 "Oh perhaps you are going to write a 
 book ? I have always felt dreadfully afraid 
 that you were clever. Well, don't make the 
 mistake of thinking that we have only one 
 type over here, as they always do when they 
 come to write us up. There are just ten girls 
 in my particular set we have sets within sets, 
 as you do, you know and we are each one 
 of us quite different from all the others. We 
 
45 is fortunate (ftrace. 35 
 
 are supposed to be the intellectual set, and 
 Alexandra Maitland and Augusta Forbes are 
 really frightfully clever. I don't know why 
 they tolerate me probably because I admire 
 them. Augusta is my dearest friend. Alex 
 pats me on the head and says that 1 am the 
 leaven that keeps them from being a sodden 
 lump of grey matter. I have addled my brains 
 trying to keep up with them." 
 
 " Don't; you are much more charming as 
 you are." 
 
 "Oh, dear! I don't know. Men always 
 seem to get tired of me," she replied, with just 
 how much ingenuousness the Duke could not 
 determine. "Mrs. Burr says it is because I 
 talk a blue streak and say nothing. Hal is 
 quite too frightfully slangy. Augusta kisses 
 me and says I am an inconsequential darling. 
 She made me act in one of HowelFs comedies 
 once, and I did it badly on purpose, in the 
 hope of raising my reputation, but Augusta 
 
3 6 Ijis fortunate 0>rare. 
 
 said it was because I couldn't act. Fletcher 
 Cuyler, who is the most impertinent man 
 
 in New York said Have you seen 
 
 Fletcher?" 
 
 " He came out on the tug to meet me, and 
 left me at the door." 
 
 "I believe if Fletcher really has a deep 
 down affection for anyone, it is for you I 
 mean for any man. He is devoted to all of us, 
 and he is the only man we chum with. But 
 we wouldn't have him at the meeting to-day. 
 Do you know that I should have lent my valu- 
 able presence to two important meetings this 
 afternoon ? " 
 
 "Really?" The Duke was beginning to 
 feel a trifle restless. 
 
 " Yes, we are going in frightfully for So- 
 cialism, you know Socialism and the vote 
 and oh, dozens of other things. Alex said 
 we must, and so we did. It's great fun. We 
 make speeches. At least, I don't, but the 
 
i0 fortunate Iterate. 37 
 
 others do. Should you like to go to one of 
 our meetings?" 
 
 "I should not! " said the Duke emphatic- 
 ally. 
 
 " Well, you must not make fun of us, for I 
 am simply bent on having all the girls adore 
 you, particularly Augusta. The other day we 
 had a lovely meeting. It was here. I have 
 the prettiest boudoir: Alex designed it. It 
 looks just like a rainbow. I lay on the couch 
 in a gown to match, and the girls all took off 
 their stiff street frocks and put on my wrap- 
 pers, and we smoked cigarettes and ate bon- 
 bons, and read Karl Marx. It was lovely ! I 
 didn't understand a word, but I felt intellect- 
 ual the atmosphere, you know. When we 
 had finished a chapter and Alex had ex- 
 pounded it, and quarrelled over it with Au- 
 gusta, we talked over all the men we knew, 
 and I am sure men would be lots better if they 
 knew what girls thought about them. Alex 
 
38 $is .fortunate <B>rar*. 
 
 says we must regenerate them, quicken their 
 souls, so to speak, and I suppose I may as 
 well begin on you, although you're not an 
 American, and can't vote we're for reforming 
 the United States, you know. What is the 
 state of your soul ? " And again she gave her 
 fresh childlike laugh. 
 
 " I haven't any. Give me up. I am hope- 
 less." He was arriving at the conclusion that 
 she was more amusing in detached chats, 
 but reflected that she was certainly likeable. 
 It was this last pertainment, added to the ru- 
 mour of her father's vast wealth, that had 
 brought him across the water. 
 
 "I don't know that I have ever seen one 
 of the what do they call them ? advanced 
 women ? But I am told that they are not 
 Circean. That, indeed, seems to be their 
 hall-mark. A woman's first duty is to be 
 attractive." 
 
 "That's what Fletcher says. Augusta is 
 
fortunate <&>rat. 39 
 
 my most intimate friend, my very dearest 
 friend, but I never saw a man look as if he 
 was thinking about falling in love with her. 
 How long shall you stay?" she added 
 quickly, perceiving that he was tiring of the 
 subject. 
 
 "I? oh I don't know. Until you tell 
 me that I bore you. I may take a run into 
 Central America with Fletcher." 
 
 " Into what ? Why that's days, and days, 
 and days from here, and must be a horrid 
 place to travel in." 
 
 "I thought Chicago was only twenty-four 
 hours from New York." 
 
 "Oh, you funny, funny, deliciously funny 
 Englishman!' Why Central America* doesn't 
 belong to the United States at all. It's 'way 
 down between North and South America or 
 somewhere. I suppose you mean middle 
 America. We call Chicago and all that part 
 of the country West." 
 
4 4jis fortunate 0>race. 
 
 "If it's middle it's central," said the Duke, 
 imperturbably. "You cannot expect me to 
 command the vernacular of your enormous 
 country in a day." 
 
 He rose suddenly. A woman some twenty 
 years older than Mabel had entered. Her face 
 and air were excessively, almost aggressively 
 refined, her carriage complacent, a trifle inso- 
 lent. She was the faded prototype of her 
 daughter. The resemblance was close and 
 prophetic. 
 
 "My dear Duke," she said, shaking him 
 warmly by the hand, "I am so flattered that 
 you have come to us at once, and so glad to 
 have the opportunity to thank you for your 
 kindness to Mabel when she was in your dear 
 delightful country. Take that chair, it is so 
 much more comfortable." She herself sat 
 upon an upright chair, and laid one hand 
 lightly over the other. Her repose of manner 
 was absolute. "The happiest days of my life 
 
is fortunate Qbrate. 41 
 
 were spent in England, when I was first mar- 
 ried it seems only day before yesterday my 
 husband and I went over and jaunted about 
 England and Scotland and Wales in the most 
 old-fashioned manner possible. For six 
 months we rambled here and there, seeing 
 everything one was not ashamed of being a 
 tourist in those days. We would not present 
 a letter, we wanted to have a real honeymoon: 
 we were so much in love. And to think that 
 Aire Castle is so near that terrible Strid. I re- 
 member that we stood for an hour simply fas- 
 cinated. Mr. Creighton wanted to take the 
 stride, but I wouldn't let him. He has never 
 been over with me since he is so busy. I 
 can't think how Mr. Forbes always manages 
 to go with his wife, unless it is true that he is 
 jealous of her although in common justice I 
 must add that if she has ever given him cause 
 no one knows it. I suppose it is on general 
 principles, because she is such a beauty. Still 
 
42 is -fortunate Gbrate. 
 
 I must say that if I were a man and mar- 
 ried to a Southern woman I should want 
 to get rid of her occasionally: they are so 
 conceited and they do rattle on so about 
 nothing. Virginia Forbes talks rather less 
 than most Southern women; but I imagine 
 that is to enhance the value of her velvety 
 voice." 
 
 The Duke, who had made two futile efforts 
 to rise, now stood up resolutely. 
 
 " I am very sorry " he began. 
 
 " Oh ! / am so sorry you will rush away," 
 exclaimed his hostess. "I have barely heard 
 you speak. You must come with us to the 
 opera to-night. Do. Will you come infor- 
 mally to an early dinner, or will you join us in 
 the box with Fletcher ? " 
 
 "I will join you with Fletcher. And I 
 must go I have an engagement with him at 
 the hotel he is waiting fcfr me. You are 
 very kind thanks, awfully. So jolly to 
 
Ijis fortunate (Bfrace. 43 
 
 be so hospitably received in a strange coun- 
 try." 
 
 When he reached the side-walk, he drew 
 a long breath. "My God!" he thought, 
 "Is it a disease that waxes with age ? 
 Perhaps they get wound up sometimes and 
 can't stop. . . . And she is pretty now, 
 but it's dreadful to have the inevitable 
 sprung on you in that way. What are the 
 real old women like, I wonder? They 
 must merely fade out like an old photo- 
 graph. I can't imagine one of them a 
 substantial corpse. I shall feel as if I were 
 married to a dissolving view. She is 
 charming now, but oh, well, that is not 
 the only thing to be taken into considera- 
 tion." 
 
 The Creighton house was on Murray Hill. 
 He crossed over to Fifth Avenue and 
 walked down toward the Waldorf, absently 
 swinging his stick, regardless of many curi- 
 
44 ips fortunate Qfrratt. 
 
 ous glances. "I wonder," he thought, 
 " I wonder if I ever dreamed of a honey- 
 moon with the one woman. If I did, 
 I have forgotten. What a bore it will be 
 now." 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 AUGUSTA returned home at six o'clock, 
 not flushed with triumph, for she was too 
 tired, but with an elated spirit. She had 
 stood on a platform in an East Side hall 
 surrounded by her friends, arid to two 
 dozen bedraggled females had made the 
 first speech of her life. And it had been 
 a good speech; she did not need assur- 
 ance of that. She had stood as well as 
 Alexandra Maitland, but had used certain 
 little emphatic gestures (she was too inde- 
 pendent to imitate anyone); and she had, 
 with well-bred lack of patronage, assured 
 her humble sisters, for three quarters of an 
 hour, that they must sign the petition for 
 Woman Franchise, and make all the other 
 
 45 
 
46 f is fortunate 
 
 women on the East Side sign it: in order 
 that they might be able to put down the 
 liquor trust, reform their husbands, secure 
 good government, and be happy ever after. 
 She flattered herself that she had not used 
 a single long word and she prided herself 
 upon her vocabulary that she had spoken 
 with the simplicity and directness which 
 characterized great orators and writers. Al- 
 together, it was an experience to make 
 any girl scorn fatigue; and when she en- 
 tered her boudoir and found Mabel Creighton, 
 she gave her a dazzling smile of welcome, 
 and embraced her warmly. Mabel respond- 
 ed with a nervous hug and shed a tear. 
 
 "He's here!" she whispered ecstatically. 
 
 ''Who? Oh, your Duke. Did he pro- 
 pose right off? Do tell me." And she 
 seated herself close beside her friend, and 
 forgot that she was reforming the United 
 States. 
 
JTortnnate (State. 47 
 
 ''No, but he told me that he had come 
 over on purpose to see me." 
 
 " That's equal to a proposal," said Au- 
 gusta decidedly. " Englishmen are very 
 cautious. They are much better brought up 
 than ours. Which is only another warning 
 that we must take ours in hand. It is 
 shocking the way they frivol. I'd rather 
 you married an American for this reason; 
 but if you love the Duke of Bosworth, I 
 have nothing to say. Besides, you're the 
 vine-and-tendril sort; I don't know that 
 you'd ever acquire any influence over a 
 man; so it doesn't much matter. Now tell 
 me about the Duke, dearest; I am so glad 
 that he has come." 
 
 Mabel talked a steady stream for a half- 
 hour, then hurried home to dress for the 
 evening. 
 
 Mr. Forbes was standing before the fire 
 in the drawing-room when his daughter 
 
Ijis fortunate <B>race. 
 
 entered, apparelled for the opera and sub- 
 sequent ball. She wore a smart French 
 gown of pale blue satin, a turquoise comb 
 in her pale modishly dressed hair, and she 
 carried herself with the spring and grace of 
 her kind; but she was very pale, and there 
 were dark circles about her eyes. 
 
 "You look worn out, my dear," said her 
 father, solicitously. "What have you been 
 doing ? " 
 
 Miss Forbes sank into a chair. " I went 
 to two meetings, one at Hal's and one in 
 the slums. I spoke for the first time, and it 
 has rather taken it out of me." 
 
 ' ' Would the victory of your ' cause ' com- 
 pensate for crow's feet?" 
 
 "Indeed it would. I really do not care. 
 I am so glad that I have no beauty to lose. 
 I might not take life so seriously if I had. 
 I am beginning to have a suspicion that 
 Mary Gallatin and several others have merely 
 
fortunate <0>rac*. 49 
 
 taken up these great questions as a fad. 
 Here comes mamma. I am glad, for I am 
 hungry. I had no time for tea to-day." 
 
 A portiere was lifted aside by a servant, 
 and Mrs. Forbes entered the room. But for 
 the majesty of her carriage she looked 
 younger than her daughter, so exquisitely 
 chiselled were her features, so fresh and 
 vivid her colouring. Virginia Forbes was 
 thirty-nine and looked less than thirty. 
 Her tall voluptuous figure had not out- 
 grown a line of its early womanhood, her 
 neck and arms were Greek. A Virginian 
 by birth, she inherited her high-bred beauty 
 from a line of ancestors that had been 
 fathered in America by one of Elizabeth's 
 courtiers. Her eyes had the slight fullness 
 peculiar to the Southern woman ; the colour, 
 like that of the hair, was a dark brown 
 warmed with a touch of red. Her curved, 
 scarlet mouth was not full, but the lips 
 
l)is fortunate <S>race. 
 
 were rarely without a pout, which lent its 
 aid to the imperious charm of her face. 
 There were those who averred that upon 
 the rare occasions when this lovely mouth 
 was off guard it showed a hint in its 
 modelling of self-will and cruelty. But few 
 had seen it off guard. 
 
 She wore a tiara of diamonds, and on 
 her neck three rows of large stones depend- 
 ing lightly from fine gold chains. Her 
 gown was of pale green velvet, with a 
 stomacher of diamonds. On her arm she 
 carried an opera cloak of emerald green 
 velvet lined with blue fox. 
 
 Mr. Forbes' cold brilliant eyes softened 
 and smiled as she came toward him, flirt- 
 ing her lashes and lifting her chin. For 
 this man, whose eyes were steel during all 
 the hours of light, who controlled the des- 
 tinies of railroads and other stupendous 
 enterprises and was the back-bone of his 
 
|)is fortunate (Brace. 51 
 
 political party, who had piled up millions 
 as a child piles up blocks, and who had 
 three times refused the nomination of his 
 party for the highest gift of the nation, 
 had worshipped his wife for twenty-two 
 years. He turned toward his home at 
 the close of each day with a pleasure 
 that never lost its edge, exulting in the 
 thought that ambition, love of admira- 
 tion, and the onerous duties of the so- 
 cial leader could not tempt his wife to 
 neglect him for an hour. He lavished for- 
 tunes upon her. She had an immense al- 
 lowance to squander without record, a 
 palace at Newport and another in the 
 North Carolina mountains, a yacht, and 
 jewels to the value of a million dollars. 
 In all the years of their married life he had 
 refused her but one dear desire to live 
 abroad in the glitter of courts, and receive 
 the homage of princes. He had declined 
 
52 fis fortunate (&race. 
 
 foreign missions again and again. " The 
 very breath of life for me is in America," 
 he had said with final decision. "And if 
 I wanted office I should prefer the large 
 responsibilities of the Presidency to the nag- 
 ging worries of an Ambassador's life. The 
 absurdities of foreign etiquette irritate me 
 now when I can come and go as I like. 
 If they were my daily portion I should end 
 in a lunatic asylum. They are a lot of tin 
 gods, anyhow, my dear. As for you, it is 
 much more notable to shine as a particular 
 star in a country of beauties, than to walk 
 away from a lot of women who look as if 
 they had been run through the same mould, 
 and are only beauties by main strength." 
 And on this point she was forced to submit. 
 She did it with the better grace because she 
 loved her husband with the depth and te- 
 nacity of a strong and passionate nature. His 
 brain and will, the nobility and generosity 
 
$is fortunate <&race. 53 
 
 of his character, had never ceased to exer- 
 cise their enchantment, despite the men that 
 paid her increasing court. Moreover, al- 
 though the hard relentless pursuit of gold 
 had aged his hair and skin, Mr. Forbes 
 was a man of superb appearance. His head 
 and features had great distinction; his face, 
 when the hours of concentration were passed, 
 was full of magnetism and life, his eyes of 
 good-will and fire. His slender powerful 
 figure betrayed little more than half of his 
 fifty-one years. He was a splendid speci- 
 men of the American of the higher civilisa- 
 tion: with all the vitality and enthusiasm 
 of youth, the wide knowledge and intelli- 
 gence of more than his years, and a man- 
 ner that could be polished and cold, or 
 warm and spontaneous, at will. 
 
 For her daughter, Mrs. Forbes cared less. 
 She had not the order of vanity which would 
 have dispensed with a walking advertisement 
 
54 is fortunate <S>race. 
 
 of her years, but she resented having borne an 
 ugly duckling, one, moreover, that had tire- 
 some fads. She had been her husband's con- 
 fidante in all his gigantic schemes, financial 
 and political, and Augusta's intellectual kinks 
 bored her. 
 
 She crossed the room and gave her hus- 
 band's necktie a little twist. Mr. Forbes sus- 
 tained the reputation of being the best- 
 groomed man in New York, but it pleased her 
 to think that she could improve him. Then 
 she fluttered her eyelashes again. 
 
 "Do I look very beautiful?" she whis- 
 pered. 
 
 He bent his head and kissed her. 
 
 "When you two get through spooning," 
 remarked Miss Forbes in a tired voice, "sup- 
 pose we go in to dinner." 
 
 "Don't flatter yourself that it is all for 
 you," Mrs. Forbes said to her husband, " 1 am 
 to meet an English peer to-night." 
 
is fortunate <&race. 55 
 
 "Indeed," replied Mr. Forbes, smiling, 
 " Have we another on the market ? What is 
 his price ? Does he only want a roof? or will 
 he take the whole castle, barring the name 
 and the outside walls?" 
 
 "You are such an old cynic. This is the 
 Duke of Bosworth, a very charming man, I am 
 told. I don't know whether he is poverty- 
 stricken or not. I believe he paid Mabel 
 Creighton a good deal of attention in the 
 autumn, when she was visiting in England." 
 
 " He wouldn't get much with her: Creigh- 
 ton is in a tight place. He may pull out, but 
 he has three children besides Mabel. How- 
 ever, there are plenty of others to snap at this 
 titled fish, no doubt." 
 
 "I hope not," said Augusta. " Dear Ma- 
 bel is very fond of him ; I am sure of that. He 
 only arrived to-day, and is going with them 
 to the opera to-night. How are you to meet 
 him ? " 
 
56 ipis fortunate <0>rcue. 
 
 " Fletcher Cuyler will bring him to my 
 box, of course. Are not all distinguished for- 
 eigners brought to my shrine at once?" 
 
 " True," said Miss Forbes. "But are we 
 going in to dinner ? I have never heard 
 Maurel in Don Giovanni, and I don't want to 
 lose more than the first act." 
 
 " There is plenty of it. But let us go in to 
 dinner, by all means." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE two tiers of boxes at the Metropolitan 
 Opera House reserved for the beauty and 
 fashion of New York flashed with the plumage 
 of women and a thousand thousand gems. 
 Women of superb style, with little of artifice 
 but much of art, gowned so smartly that only 
 their intense vitality saved them from confu- 
 sion with the fashion-plate, carrying them- 
 selves with a royal, albeit somewhat self- 
 conscious air, many of them crowned like 
 empresses, others starred like night, produc- 
 ing the effect en masse of resplendent beauty, 
 and individually of deficiency in all upon 
 which the centuries have set their seal, hung, 
 two or three in a frame, against the curving 
 
 walls and red background of the great house : 
 
 57 
 
5 8 is fortunate 
 
 suspended in air, these goddesses of a new 
 civilisation, as if with insolent challenge to all 
 that had come to stare. To the music they 
 paid no attention. They had come to deco- 
 rate, not to listen ; without them there would 
 be no opera. The music lovers were stuffed 
 on high, where they seemed to cling to the 
 roof like flies. The people in the parquette 
 and orchestra chairs, in the dress-circle and 
 balconies, came to see the hundreds of millions 
 represented in the grand tier. Two rows of 
 blase club faces studded the long omnibus 
 box. Behind the huge sleeves and volumi- 
 nous skirts that sheathed their proudest posses- 
 sions, were the men that had coined or inher- 
 ited the wealth which made this triumphant 
 exhibition possible. 
 
 As the curtain went down on the second 
 act and the boxes emptied themselves of their 
 male kind that other male kind might enter 
 to do homage, two young men took their 
 
igis fortunate Gfrrate. 59 
 
 stand in the back of a box near the stage and 
 scanned the house. One of them remarked 
 after a few moments: 
 
 " I thought that all American women were 
 beautiful. So far, I see only one." 
 
 "These are the New York fashionettes, 
 my dear boy. Their pedigree is too short for 
 aristocratic outline. You will observe that the 
 pug is as yet unmitigated. Not that blood 
 always tells, by any means : some of your old 
 duchesses look like cooks. Our orchids travel 
 on their style, grooming, and health, and you 
 must admit that the general effect is stunning. 
 Who is your beauty?" 
 
 "Directly in the middle of the house. 
 Gad! she's a ripper." 
 
 "You are right. That is the prettiest 
 woman in New York. And her pedigree is 
 probably as good as yours." 
 
 "Who is she?" 
 
 "Mrs. Edward R. Forbes, the wife of one 
 
 5 
 
60 is fortunate race. 
 
 of the wealthiest and most powerful men in 
 the United States." 
 
 -Really!" 
 
 "That is her daughter beside her." 
 
 "Her what!" 
 
 "I always enjoy making that shot. It 
 throws a flash-light on the pitiful lack of 
 originality in man every time. But it is noth- 
 ing for the petted wife of an American million- 
 aire to look thirty when she is forty. It's the 
 millionaire who looks sixty when he is fifty. 
 I'm not including Forbes, by the way. That 
 tall man of fine physique that has just left the 
 box is he." 
 
 "Poor thing!" 
 
 "Oh, don't waste any pity on Forbes. 
 He's the envy of half New York. She is de- 
 voted to him, and with good reason: there are 
 few men that can touch him at any point. I 
 shall take you over presently. The first thing 
 a distinguished stranger, who has had the tip, 
 
ijjis fortunate <B>race. 61 
 
 does when he comes to New York is to pay 
 his court at that shrine. What a pity you are 
 booked. That girl will come in for forty mil- 
 lions." 
 
 The other set his face more stolidly. 
 
 "Pounds?" 
 
 "Oh, no dollars. But they'll do." 
 
 "I have not spoken as yet, although I 
 don't mind saying that that is what I came 
 over for." 
 
 "I suppose you are in pretty deep too 
 deep to draw out?" 
 
 "I don't know that I want to. I can be 
 frank with you, Fletcher. Is her father solid ? 
 American fortunes are so deucedly ricketty. I 
 am perfectly willing to state brutally that I 
 wouldn't couldn't marry Venus unless I got 
 a half million (pounds) with her and some- 
 thing of an income to boot." 
 
 " As far as I know Creighton stands pretty 
 well toward the top. You can never tell 
 
62 
 
 though: American fortunes are so exagger- 
 ated. You see, the women whose husbands 
 are worth five millions can make pretty much 
 the same splurge as the twenty or thirty mil- 
 lion ones. They know so well how to do it. 
 For the matter of that there's one clever old 
 parvenu here who has never handled more 
 than a million and a half as I happen to 
 know, for I'm her lawyer and who entertains 
 with the best of them. Her house, clothes, 
 jewels, are gorgeous. A shrewd old head like 
 that can do a lot on an income of seventy 
 thousand dollars a year. But Forbes, I should 
 say, is worth his twenty millions that's 
 allowing for all embellishments if he's worth 
 a dollar, and Augusta is the only child. Un- 
 less America goes bankrupt, she'll come in for 
 two-thirds of that one of these days, and an 
 immense dot meanwhile." 
 
 At this moment Miss Creighton, who had 
 been talking with charming vivacity to a 
 
10 fortunate <&>race. 63 
 
 group of visitors, dismissed them with tact- 
 ful badinage, and beckoned to the two men 
 in the back of the box. 
 
 "Sit down," she commanded. "What 
 do you think, Fletcher ? I stayed away 
 from two important meetings to-day in 
 order to receive the Duke. Was not that 
 genuine American hospitality?" 
 
 She spoke lightly ; but as her eyes sought 
 the Englishman's, something seemed to flut- 
 ter behind her almost transparent face. 
 
 "These fads! These fads!" exclaimed 
 the young man addressed as Fletcher. 
 ''Have you resigned yourself to the New 
 Woman, Bertie? The New York variety 
 is innocuous. They just have a real good 
 time and the newspapers take them seri- 
 ously and write them up, which they 
 think is lovely." 
 
 "Nobody pays any attention to Fletcher 
 Cuyler," said Miss Creighton with affected 
 
64 f is .fortunate 
 
 disdain. "We will make you all stare 
 yet." 
 
 The Duke smiled absently. He was 
 looking toward the box in the middle of 
 the tier. 
 
 " I think women should have whatever 
 diversion they can find or invent," he said. 
 "Society does not do much for them." 
 
 The curtain rose. 
 
 "Keep quiet," ordered Cuyler. "I allow 
 no talking in a box which I honour with 
 my presence. That isn't what / ruin my- 
 self for." 
 
 He was a tall nervous blonde bald-headed 
 man of the Duke's age, with an imp-like 
 expression and dazzling teeth. Despite the 
 fact that he was unwealthed, he was a 
 fixed star in New York society; he not 
 only knew more dukes and princes than 
 any other man in the United States, but 
 was intimate with them. He had smart 
 
is fortunate <B>race. 65 
 
 English relatives and was a graduate of 
 Oxford, where he had been the chosen 
 friend of the heir to the Dukedom of Bos- 
 worth. His excessive liveliness, his adapta- 
 bility and versatility, his audacity, eccentri- 
 cities, cleverness, and his utter disregard of 
 rank, had made him immensely popular in 
 England. He was treated as something be- 
 tween a curio and a spoilt child; and if 
 people guessed occasionally that his head 
 was peculiarly level, they but approved him 
 the more. 
 
 When the act was done and the box 
 again invaded, Cuyler carried the English- 
 man off to call on Mrs. Forbes. Her box 
 was already crowded, and Mr. Forbes stood 
 just outside the door. As the Duke was 
 introduced to him, he contracted his eye- 
 lids, and a brief glance of contempt shot 
 from eyes that looked twenty years younger 
 than the fish-like orbs which involuntarily 
 
66 |)is JForttmate (Brace. 
 
 twitched as they met that dart. But Mr. 
 Forbes was always courteous, and he spoke 
 pleasantly to the young man of his father, 
 whom he had known. 
 
 Cuyler entered the box. "Get out," he 
 said, "everyone of you. I've got a live 
 duke out there. He's mortgaged for the 
 rest of the evening and time's short." He 
 drove the men out, then craned his long 
 neck round the half-open door. 
 
 " Dukee, dukee," he called, "come 
 hither." 
 
 The Duke, summoning what dignity he 
 could, entered, and was presented. After he 
 had paid a few moments' court to Mrs. 
 Forbes, Cuyler deftly changed seats with 
 him and plunged into an animated dispute 
 with his hostess anent the vanishing charms 
 of Don Giovanni. 
 
 The Duke leaned over Miss Forbes' chair 
 with an air of languor, which was due to 
 
I)i0 fortunate <5race. 67 
 
 physical fatigue, contemplating her absently, 
 and not taking the trouble to more than 
 answer her remarks. Nevertheless, his pro- 
 longed if indifferent stare disturbed the girl 
 who had known little susceptibility to men. 
 There was something in the cold regard of 
 his eye, the very weariness of his manner, 
 which had its charm for the type of wom- 
 an who is responsive to the magnetism of 
 inertia, whom a more vital force repels. 
 And his title, all that it represented, the 
 pages of military glory it rustled, appealed 
 to the mind of the American girl who had 
 felt the charm of English history. She was 
 not a snob; she had given no thought to 
 marrying a title; and if the man had re- 
 pelled her, she would have relegated him 
 to that far outer circle whence all were 
 banished who bored her or achieved her 
 disapproval ; but a thin spell emanated 
 from this cold self-contained personality and 
 
68 ig 4F0rtmtate 
 
 stirred her languid pulse. Practical as she 
 was, she had a girl's imagination, and she 
 saw in him all that he had not, haloed 
 with an ancient title; behind him a great 
 sweep of historical canvas. Then she re- 
 membered her friend; and envied her with 
 the most violent emotion of her life. 
 
 "Well, what do you think of her?" 
 asked Cuyler of the Duke, as they walked 
 down the lobby. "I don't mean la belle 
 dame sans merci ; there's only one opinion 
 on that subject. But Augusta ? do you 
 think you could stand her? If Forbes took 
 the notion he'd come down with five million 
 dollars without turning a hair." 
 
 "I could swallow her whole and without 
 a grimace," said the Duke drily. "But I 
 am half, two-thirds committed. I have no 
 intention of making Miss Creighton ridicu- 
 lous, although I shall be obliged to tell her 
 father frankly that I cannot marry her unless 
 
10 fortunate <&race. 69 
 
 he comes down with half a million. It's 
 a disgusting thing to do, but I have no 
 choice." 
 
 "Oh, don't go back on Mabel, of course. 
 But I am sorry. However, nous verrons. 
 If Creighton doesn't come to time, let me 
 know. I am pretty positive I can arrange 
 the other: I think I know my fair com- 
 patriot's weak spot. I suppose you go on 
 with the Creightons to the big affair at 
 the Schemmerhorn-Smiths to-night? Well, 
 give Augusta a quarter of an hour or so 
 of your flattering attentions. It will do no 
 harm, in any event. I feel like a conspira- 
 tor, but I'd like to see you on your feet. 
 Gad ! I wish I had a title; I wouldn't be 
 in debt as long as you have been." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE next day Cuyler took the Duke to 
 call on Mrs. Forbes in her house. It was 
 five o'clock and the lamps were lit. Au- 
 gusta's particular set were there, talking 
 Socialism over their tea, and enlightening a 
 half-dozen young men and elderly club 
 roues, who listened with becoming gravity. 
 Mrs. Forbes sat somewhat apart by the tea- 
 table talking to three or four men on any 
 subject but Socialism. She wore a gown 
 of dark-red velvet with a collar of Vene- 
 tian lace and sat in a large high-backed 
 chair of ebony, inlaid with ivory. The seat 
 was also high, and she looked somewhat 
 like a queen on her throne, graciously re- 
 ceiving the homage of her courtiers. The 
 70 
 
is fortunate 0>race. 7 1 
 
 drawing-room was twice as large as the 
 Creighton's, the Duke noted as he entered. 
 It was hung with dark-green velvet em- 
 broidered with a tree design in wood colour 
 an inch thick. Every shade of green blend- 
 ed in the great apartment, and there was 
 no other colour but the wood relief and 
 the pink of the lamp-shades. 
 
 Mrs. Forbes did not rise, but she held 
 out her hand to the stranger with so spon- 
 taneous a warmth that he felt as if he 
 were receiving his first welcome in trans- 
 atlantic parts. She had not shaken hands 
 with him at the opera, and their brief con- 
 versation had been over her shoulder; he 
 now found that her eyes and hand, her 
 womanly magnetism and almost regal man- 
 ner combined to effect the impression : 
 "New York, c'est mot. My hospitality to 
 the elect few who win my favour is sincere 
 and unbounded, the bitter envy of the cold 
 
72 45is Jorttmate 
 
 and superfluous stranger without its gates; 
 and, of all men, my dear Duke of Bos- 
 worth, you are the most genuinely wel- 
 come." 
 
 He wondered a little how she did it, but 
 did not much care. It was a large beauti- 
 ful gracious presence, and he was content, 
 glad to bask in it. He forgot Augusta 
 and Mabel, and took a low chair before 
 her. 
 
 "I won't ask you how you like New 
 York," she said, smiling again. She half 
 divined his thoughts, and saw that he was 
 clever despite an entire indifference to his 
 natural abilities; and the sympathy of her 
 nature conveyed what she thought. 
 
 "Oh, I do now," he replied with un- 
 wonted enthusiasm. "I must say that the 
 blind rush everybody seems to be in is a trifle 
 disconcerting at first it makes an Englishman 
 feel, rather, as if his youngest child the child 
 
iljis fortunate G&rate. 73 
 
 of his old age, as it were, was on a dead run, 
 and that he must rush after to see what it was 
 all about or be left behind like an old fogey. 
 Upon my word I feel fully ten years older than 
 1 did when I landed." 
 
 She laughed so heartily that he felt a sud- 
 den desire to say something really clever, and 
 wondered why he usually took so little trouble. 
 
 "That is the very best statement of one of 
 our racial differences I have heard," she said; 
 "I shall remember to tell it to my husband. 
 He will be delighted. I feel the rush myself 
 at times, for I was born in a far more languid 
 climate. But New York is an electrifying 
 place; it would fascinate you in time." 
 
 "It fascinates me already!" he said gal- 
 lantly, "and it is certainly reposeful here." 
 
 "It is always the same, particularly at five 
 o'clock," she replied. 
 
 "Does that mean that I can drop in some- 
 times at this hour?" 
 
74 is fortunate <&>race. 
 
 you?" 
 
 "I am afraid I shall be tempted to come 
 every day." 
 
 "That would be our pleasure," and again 
 she smiled. It was a smile that had warmed 
 older hearts than the weary young profli- 
 gate's. "Augusta is almost invariably here 
 and I usually am. Occasionally I drive down 
 to bring my husband home." 
 
 The Duke understood her perfectly. Her 
 graceful pleasure in meeting him was not to 
 be misconstrued. As she turned to greet a 
 new comer he regarded her closely. If she 
 had not taken the trouble tp convey her subtle 
 warning, he should have guessed that she 
 loved her husband. Then he fell to wonder- 
 ing what sort of a man Forbes was to have 
 developed the abundant harvest of such a 
 woman's nature. " She could easily have 
 been made something very different in the 
 wrong hands," he thought, "and not in one 
 
4j)is for innate <&>race. 75 
 
 respect only but in many. What a mess I 
 should have made of a nature like that! Little 
 Miss Creighton, with her meagre and neutral 
 make-up is about all I am equal to. This 
 woman might have lifted me up once; but 
 more likely I should have dragged her down. 
 She is all woman, the kind that is controlled 
 and moulded by the will of a man." 
 
 His eyes rested on her mouth. "She will 
 hurt Forbes some day, give him a pretty nasty 
 time; but it won't be because she doesn't love 
 him. And she'll make him forget when 
 she gets ready. A man would forgive a 
 woman like that anything." 
 
 She turned suddenly and met his eyes. 
 "What are you thinking?" she demanded. 
 
 "That Mr. Forbes must be a remarkable 
 man," he answered quickly. He rose. "I 
 must go over and speak to Miss Forbes ; but I 
 shall come back." 
 
 Mabel's eyes were full of coquettish re- 
 6 
 
76 4is fortunate GSicate. 
 
 proach. Augusta chaffed him for forgetting 
 their existence. Her manner was not her 
 mother's, but it was high-bred, and equally 
 sincere. She presented him to the other girls, 
 and to Mrs. Burr, who lifted her lorgnette, and 
 regarded him with a prolonged and somewhat 
 discomforting stare. But it was difficult to 
 embarrass the Duke of Bosworth. He went 
 over and sat beside Mabel. 
 
 "I think I met him once," said Mrs. Burr 
 to Augusta, "but he is so very unindividual 
 that I cannot possibly remember." 
 
 "I think he is charming," said Miss 
 Forbes. " I had quite a talk with him last 
 night." 
 
 "He doesn't look stupid, but he's not pre- 
 cisely hypnotic," 
 
 "Oh, there's something about him!" ex- 
 claimed one of the other girls. "I feel sure 
 that he's fascinating." 
 
 " He looks as though he knew so much of 
 
fortunate Qfrrate. 77 
 
 the world," said another, with equal enthusi- 
 asm. 
 
 "What's the matter with us?" demanded 
 one of the young men. 
 
 "You haven't a title," said Mrs. Burr. 
 
 "Hal, you are quite too horrid. I have 
 not thought of his title not once. But Norry, 
 you can't look like that, no matter how hard 
 you try." 
 
 "Oh yes I can; it's not so hard as you 
 imagine; only it's not my chronic effect. 
 When I am ah indiscreet enough to pro- 
 duce it, I have the grace to keep out of 
 sight." 
 
 "That is not what I mean." 
 
 "Oh, he is an Englishman with a title," 
 said the young man, huffily. "Miss Mait- 
 land, have you caught the fever?" 
 
 "I have either had all, or have outgrown 
 the children's diseases, and I class the title- 
 fever among them. I know that some get it 
 
78 is .fortunate 
 
 late in life, but some people will catch any- 
 thing. Our old butler has just had the 
 mumps." 
 
 " That's a jolly way of looking at it." 
 
 "Oh you men are not altogether exempt," 
 said Mrs. Burr. " But the funniest case is Ellis 
 Davis. He's just come back from London 
 with a wild Cockney accent, calls himself 
 'Daivis/ and says 'todai' and the Princess of 
 'Wailes,' and 'paiper.' Probably he also says 
 'caike' and 'laidy.' I can't think where he 
 got it, for he must have had some letters, and 
 you may bet your prospects he presented 
 them." 
 
 " Possibly he saw more of the hotel serv- 
 ants and his barber than he did of the others," 
 suggested Miss Maitland. 
 
 " Or his ear may be defective, or his mem- 
 ory bad, and he got mixed," replied Mrs. Burr. 
 " We'll give him the benefit of the doubt; but 
 I can't think why the most original people on 
 
4j)is JFcrtanate (5>rare. 79 
 
 earth want to imitate anyone. And yet they 
 say we hate the English. Great heaven! 
 Why, we even drink the nasty concoction 
 called English breakfast tea, a brand the Eng- 
 lish villagers would not give tuppence a pound 
 for, simply because it has the magic word 
 tacked on to it." 
 
 ' 'We don't hate the English," said Au- 
 gusta. "What nonsense. The Irish do, and 
 the politicians toady to the Irish and control 
 certain of the newspapers. That is all there is 
 in it; but they make the most noise." 
 
 "And we grovel," said Mrs. Burr. "It is 
 a pity we can't strike a happy medium." 
 
 "I think the greater part of the nation is 
 indifferent," said Miss Maitland, "or at all 
 events recognises the bond of blood and grati- 
 tude." 
 
 The Duke was making his peace with 
 Mabel. 
 
 "I was afraid I bored you this morning,'* 
 
8o ijjig fortunate (0>rare. 
 
 he said, "it is good of you not to tell me that 
 you don't want to talk to me again for a 
 week." 
 
 " You only stayed an hour. Did it seem 
 so long?" 
 
 " I never paid a call of twenty minutes be- 
 fore," he said unblushingly. 
 
 "Oh, how sweet of you!" 
 
 "Not at all. Can I walk home with you ? 
 Is that proper?" 
 
 "Oh, there will be a lot of us together; 
 and they will all want to talk to you." 
 
 "My valuable conversation shall be de- 
 voted to you alone." He hesitated a moment. 
 "Shall you be at home this evening?" 
 
 She looked down, tucking the end of her 
 glove under her cuff. "Yes, I rarely go out 
 two nights in succession." 
 
 "May I call again?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 She looked up and met his eyes. "It has 
 
fortunate <B>race. 81 
 
 to be done," thought the Englishman, "there's 
 no getting out of it now, and I may as well 
 take the plunge and get over it. And she 
 certainly is likeable." 
 
 "They are going now," said Mabel. 
 
 He went over to Mrs. Forbes to make his 
 adieux. 
 
 "I haven't given you any tea," she said. 
 " It was stupid of me to forget it. You must 
 come back to-morrow and have a cup." 
 
 "I shall come for the tea," he said. 
 
 "And you must dine with us ? Some day 
 next week Thursday ? " 
 
 "Thanks, awfully; I'll come on any pre- 
 tence." 
 
 "You must Fletcher, take the Duke into 
 the dining-room. It is so cold outside." 
 
 And to this invitation the Duke responded 
 with no less grace, then walked home with 
 Mabel and left her at her door, happy and 
 elated. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 MR. FORBES stood in his office, his eyes 
 ri vetted on a narrow belt of telegraph ticking 
 which slipped loosely through his hands, yard 
 after yard, from a machine on the table. As 
 it fell to the floor and coiled and piled about 
 him, until the upper part of his body alone 
 was visible, it seemed to typify the rising 
 waters of Wall Street. Outside, the city was 
 white and radiant, under snow and electric 
 light. In the comfortable office the curtains 
 were drawn, a gas log flamed in the grate, and 
 the electric loops were hot. 
 
 Mr. Forbes had stood motionless for an 
 hour. His hat was on the back of his head. 
 His brow was corrugated. His lips were 
 
 pressed together, his eyes like flint. The sec- 
 82 
 
JTortnnate (9>race. 83 
 
 retary and clerk had addressed him twice, but 
 had been given no heed. The hieroglyphics 
 on that strip of white paper sliding so rapidly 
 through his fingers had his brain in their grip. 
 For the moment he was a financial machine, 
 nothing more. 
 
 Suddenly the ticking was softly brushed 
 from his hands, the coils about him kicked 
 apart by a little foot, and he looked down 
 into the face of his wife. She was enveloped 
 in sables; her cheeks were brilliant with the 
 pink of health and cold. Mr. Forbes' brow 
 relaxed; he drew a deep sigh and removed 
 his hat. 
 
 " Well! I am glad I came for you," she 
 exclaimed. " I believe you would have stood 
 there all night. You looked like a statue. Is 
 anything wrong?" 
 
 "I have merely stood here and watched a 
 half million drift through my fingers," he said. 
 "Northern Consolidated is dropping like a 
 
84 Ijis 4F0rttmate Curare. 
 
 parachute that won't open. But let us 
 go home. I am very glad you came 
 down." 
 
 When they were in the brougham she 
 slipped her hand into his under cover of the 
 rug. "Are you worried?" she asked. 
 
 "No; I don't know that I am. I can hold 
 on, and when this panic is over the stock will 
 undoubtedly go up again. I have only a 
 million in it. But I am sorry for Creighton. 
 About two-thirds of all he's got are in this 
 railroad, and I'm afraid he won't be able to 
 hold on. But let us drop the subject. The 
 thing has got to rest until to-morrow morn- 
 ing, and I may as well rest, too. Besides, 
 nothing weighs very heavily when I am at 
 home. Are we booked for anything to- 
 night?" 
 
 "There is Mary Gallatin's musicale. She 
 has Melba and Maurel. And there is the big 
 dance at the Latimer Burr's. But if you are 
 
f is fortunate (0>race. 85 
 
 tired I don't care a rap about either. Augusta 
 can go with Harriet." 
 
 "Do stay home; that's a good girl. I am 
 tired; and what is worse, a lot of men will get 
 me into the smoking-room and talk 'slump.' 
 If I could spend the evening lying on the di- 
 van in your boudoir, while you read or played 
 to me, I should feel that life was quite all that 
 it should be." 
 
 ''Well, you shall. We have so few good 
 times together in winter.*' 
 
 He pressed her hand gratefully. "Tell 
 me," he said after a moment, "do you think 
 this Socialism mooning of Augusta's means 
 anything ? " 
 
 "No," she said contemptuously. " I hope 
 that has not been worrying you. Girls must 
 have their fads. Last year it was pink par- 
 rots ; this year it is Socialism ; next year it will 
 be weddings. By the way, what do you 
 think of the Duke?" 
 
86 gis fortunate (B>rare. 
 
 " I can't say I've thought about him at 
 all." 
 
 "He is really quite charming." 
 
 " Is he ? His title is, I suppose you mean. 
 Have you seen him since?" 
 
 "Since when? Oh, the night of Don 
 Giovanni. I forgot that you had not been 
 home to tea this week. He has dropped in 
 with Fletcher several times." 
 
 "Ah! Well, I hope he improves on 
 acquaintance. What does Augusta think of 
 this magnificent specimen of English man- 
 hood ? " 
 
 "I think she rather likes him. She has 
 seen much more of him than I have, and says 
 that she finds him extremely interesting." 
 
 "Good God!" 
 
 " But he must have something to him, Ned 
 dear, for Augusta is very difficile. I never 
 heard her say that a man was interesting 
 before." 
 
87 
 
 "And she has been surrounded by healthy 
 well-grown self-respecting Americans all her 
 life. The infatuation for titles is a germ dis- 
 ease with Americans, more particularly with 
 New Yorkers. The moment the microbe 
 strikes the blood, inflammation ensues, and 
 the women that get it don't care whether the 
 immediate cause is a man or a remnant. 
 Is his engagement to Mabel Creighton an- 
 nounced?" 
 
 "No; she told Augusta that he had 
 spoken to her but not to her father that Mr. 
 Creighton was in such a bad humour about 
 something she thought it best to wait a while. 
 I suppose it is this Northern Consolidated 
 business." 
 
 " It certainly is. And if the Dukelet is im- 
 pecunious, I am afraid Mabel won't get him, 
 for there will be nothing to buy him with. 
 Don't speak of this, however. Creighton may 
 pull through: the stock may take a sudden 
 
88 flis .fortunate 0>race. 
 
 jump, or he may have resources of which I 
 know nothing. I should be the last to hint 
 that he was in a hole. Don't talk any more 
 here; it strains the voice so." 
 
 They were jolting over the rough stones 
 of Fifth Avenue, where speech rasped and 
 wounded the throat. The long picturesque 
 street of varied architecture throbbed with 
 the life of a winter's afternoon. The swarm 
 of carriages on the white highway looked like 
 huge black beetles with yellow eyes, multi- 
 plying without end. The sidewalks were 
 crowded with opposing tides; girls of the 
 orchid world, brightly dressed, taking their 
 brisk constitutional; young men, smartly 
 groomed, promenading with the ponderous 
 tread of fashion; business men, rushing for 
 the hotels where they could hear the late gos- 
 sip of Wall Street; the rockets of the opera 
 company, splendidly arrayed, and carrying 
 themselves with a haughty swing which chal- 
 
fi0 fortunate (State. 89 
 
 lenged the passing eye; and the contingent 
 that had come to stare. But snow-clouds had 
 brought an early dusk, and all were moving 
 homeward. By the time the Forbes reached 
 their house in the upper part of the Avenue 
 the sidewalks were almost deserted, and snow 
 stars were whirling. 
 
 The halls and dining-room of the Forbes 
 mansion were hung with tapestries; all the 
 rooms, though home-like, were stately and 
 imposing, subdued in colour and rich in effect. 
 But if the house had been designed in the 
 main as a proper setting for a very great lady, 
 one boudoir and bedroom were the more per- 
 sonal encompassment of a beautiful and luxu- 
 rious woman. The walls and windows and 
 doors of the boudoir were hung with raw silk, 
 opal hued. The furniture was covered with 
 the same material. On the floor was a white 
 velvet carpet, touched here and there with 
 pale colour. The opal effect was enhanced 
 
90 4is fortunate t&tate. 
 
 by the lamps and ornaments, which cunningly 
 simulated the gem. In one corner was a 
 small piano, enamelled white and opalized by 
 the impressionist's brush. 
 
 The pink satin on the walls of the bedroom 
 gleamed through the delicate mist of lace. A 
 shower of lace half-concealed the low uphol- 
 stered bed. The deep carpet was pink, the 
 dressing-table a huge pink and white butter- 
 fly, with furnishings of pink coral inlaid with 
 gold. A small alcove was walled with a 
 looking-glass. Every four years, when Mr. 
 Forbes was away at the National Convention, 
 his wife refurnished these rooms. She was a 
 woman of abounding variety and knew its 
 potence. 
 
 Mr. Forbes passed the evening on the di- 
 van in the boudoir, while his wife, attired in 
 a negligee of corn-coloured silk, her warm, 
 heavy hair unbound, played Chopin with soft, 
 smothered touch for an hour, then read to him 
 
JForttmate (State. 9 1 
 
 the latest novel. It was one of many even- 
 ings, and when he told her that he was the 
 happiest man alive, she remarked to herself: 
 "It would be the same. I love him devot- 
 edly. Nevertheless, during these next few 
 weeks he shall not be allowed to forget just 
 how happy I do make him." 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FLETCHER CUYLER was banging with all 
 his might on the upright piano in one cor- 
 ner of the parlour of his handsome bachelor 
 apartment. The door was thrown open 
 and the servant announced in a solemn 
 voice : 
 
 "His Grace, the Duke of Bosworth, sir." 
 
 A bald crown and a broad grin appeared 
 for a moment above the top of the piano. 
 
 "Sit down. Make yourself easy while I 
 finish this. It's a bravura I'm composing." 
 And he returned to the keys. 
 
 "I wish you'd stop that infernal racket," 
 said the Duke peevishly. "It's enough to 
 tear the nerves out of a man's body. Be- 
 sides, I want to talk to you." 
 92 
 
is fortunate (Brace. 93 
 
 But Cuyler played out his bravura to the 
 thundering end; then came leaping down 
 the room, swinging his long legs in the 
 air as if they were strung on wires. 
 
 The Duke was staring into the fire, hud- 
 dled together. He looked sullen and mis- 
 erable. 
 
 "Hallo!" cried his host. " What's up? 
 Anything wrong?" 
 
 "Nothing particular. I've made an in- 
 fernal mess of things, that's , all. I hear on 
 good authority that Creighton has never 
 been worth more than a million or so at 
 any time, and is losing money; and, with- 
 out conceit, I believe I could have had Miss 
 Forbes." 
 
 "Conceit? You'd be a geranium-col- 
 oured donkey if you had the remotest 
 doubt of the fact. She's fairly lunged at 
 you. I've known Augusta Forbes since she 
 was in long clothes she was called ' Honey ' 
 
94 f is fortunate QSrate. 
 
 until she was ten, if you can believe it; but 
 at that age she insisted upon Augusta or 
 nothing. Well, where was I ? I never 
 knew her to come off her perch before. 
 She always went in more or less for the 
 intellectual, and of late has been addling 
 her poor little brain with the problems of 
 the day. Well, the end is not yet. Have 
 you spoken to Mr. Creighton?" 
 
 "No; I barely have the honour of his 
 acquaintance. Upon the rare occasions when 
 he graces his own table he's as solemn as a 
 mummy. I'm willing to admit that I have 
 not yet summoned up courage to ask him 
 for an interview. He's polite enough, but 
 he certainly is not encouraging." 
 
 "Oh, all the big men are grumpy just 
 now. The richer they are the more they 
 have to lose. Well, whichever way it 
 works out, you have my best wishes. I'd 
 like to see Aire Castle restored." 
 
f is fortunate (State. 95 
 
 "I believe in my heart that's all I'm in 
 this dirty business for. I don't enjoy the 
 sensation of the fortune-hunter. If I have 
 any strong interest left in life beyond see- 
 ing the old place as it should be I am not 
 conscious of it." 
 
 "Come, come, Bertie, brace up, for God's 
 sake. Have a brandy and soda. You'll be 
 blowing your brains out the first thing I 
 know. Can't you get up a little sentiment 
 for Mabel Creighton ? She's a dear little 
 thing." 
 
 "I loved one woman once, and after she 
 had ruined me, she left me for another man." 
 He gave a short laugh. "She didn't have 
 the decency to offer to support me, al- 
 though she was making a good 60 a 
 week. I don't appear to be as fortunate 
 as some of my brothers. Oh, we are a 
 lovely lot." He drank the brandy and soda, 
 and resumed: "I have no love left in me 
 
f is .fortunate <S>rare. 
 
 for any woman. Mabel Creighton is a girl 
 to be tolerated, that is all; and more so 
 than Miss Forbes. Nevertheless, I wish I 
 had taken things more slowly and met 
 the latter before I was committed. You 
 may as well be killed for a sheep as a 
 lamb, and I am afraid I am not going to 
 get enough with Miss Creighton to make it 
 worth while. If he offered me two hun- 
 dred thousand pounds, I don't believe I'd 
 have the assurance to refuse." 
 
 The servant entered and thrust out a 
 granitic arm, at the end of which was a 
 wedgewood tray supporting a note. 
 
 "From Mrs. Forbes," said Cuyler. He 
 read the note. "She wants to see me at 
 once," he added. "I wonder what's up. 
 Well, I must leave you. Go or stay, just as 
 you like. And good luck to you." 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE Englishman sat tapping the top of 
 his shoe with his stick for some moments 
 after Cuyler had left, then rose abruptly, 
 left the building, and hailing a hansom, 
 drove down town to Mr. Creighton's office 
 in the Equitable Building. The elevator 
 shot him up to the fifth floor, and after 
 losing his way in the vast corridors sev- 
 eral times, he was finally steered to his 
 quarry. 
 
 A boy who sat by a table in the private 
 hall-way reading the sporting extra of an 
 evening newspaper, took in his card. Mr. 
 Creighton saw him at once. The room 
 into which the Duke was shown was 
 large, simply furnished, and flooded with 
 
 97 
 
98 f is fortunate 
 
 light. The walls seemed to be all win- 
 dows. The roar of Broadway came faintly 
 up. A telegraph machine in the corner 
 ticked intermittently, and slipped forth its 
 coils of clean white ticking, so flimsy and 
 so portentous. From an inner office came 
 the sound of a type-writer. 
 
 Mr. Creighton rose and shook hands with 
 his visitor, then closed the door leading into 
 the next room and resumed his seat by a 
 big desk covered with correspondence. He 
 had a smooth-shaven determined face that 
 had once been very good-looking, but there 
 were bags under the anxious eyes, and his 
 cheeks were haggard and lined. 
 
 "He is a man of few words probably 
 because his wife is a woman of so many," 
 thought the Duke. "I suppose I shall 
 have to begin." 
 
 He was not a man of many words him- 
 self. 
 
i0 fortunate <&>rate. 99 
 
 "I have come down here," he said, "be- 
 cause it seems impossible to find you at 
 your house, and it is necessary that I 
 should speak to you on a matter that con- 
 cerns us both. I came to America to ask 
 your daughter to marry me." 
 
 " Have you done so?" 
 
 "I have." 
 
 "Has she accepted you?" 
 
 "Of course she wishes to refer the mat- 
 ter to you." 
 
 "She wishes to marry you?" 
 
 "I think she does." 
 
 Mr. Creighton sighed heavily. He 
 wheeled about and looked through the 
 window. 
 
 "I wish she could," he said, "if she 
 loves you. I don't know you. I haven't 
 had time to think about you. I should 
 prefer that she married an American, my- 
 self, but I should never have crossed her 
 
ioo 10 fortunate 
 
 so long as she chose a gentleman and a 
 man of honour. I know nothing of your 
 record. Were the marriage possible, I 
 should enquire into it. But I am afraid 
 that it is not. I am well aware par- 
 don my abruptness that no Englishman 
 of your rank comes to America for a wife 
 if his income is sufficient to enable him 
 to marry in his own country." He paused 
 a moment. Then he resumed. The effort 
 was apparent. " I must ask your confi- 
 dence for a time but it is necessary to 
 tell you that I am seriously involved; in 
 short, if things don't mend, and quickly, 
 I shall go to pieces." 
 
 The Duke was sitting forward, staring at 
 the carpet, his chin pressed hard upon the 
 head of his stick. "I am sorry," he said, 
 "very sorry." 
 
 "So am I. Mabel has two hundred thou- 
 sand dollars of her own. I have as much 
 
^Fortunate (0>race. 101 
 
 more, something over, in land that is as yet 
 unmortgaged ; but that is not the amount you 
 came for." 
 
 The Duke of Bosworth was traversing the 
 most uncomfortable moments of his life. He 
 opened his mouth twice to speak before he 
 could frame a reply that should not insult his 
 host and show himself the exponent of a type 
 for which he suddenly experienced a profound 
 disgust. 
 
 " Aire Castle," he said finally, "is half a 
 ruin. All the land I have inherited which is 
 not entailed is mortgaged to the hilt. I may 
 add that I also inherited about half of the 
 mortgages. My income is a pittance. It 
 would cost two hundred thousand pounds to 
 repair the castle and until it is repaired, I 
 have no home to offer a wife. In common 
 justice to a woman, I must look out that she 
 brings money with her. That is my position. 
 It is a nasty one. It is good of you not to 
 
102 
 
 call me a fortune-hunter and order me 
 out." , 
 
 "Well, well, at least you have not inti- 
 mated that you are conferring an ines- 
 timable honour in asking me to regild your 
 coronet. I appreciate your position. It is 
 ugly. So is mine. Thank you for being 
 frank." 
 
 The Englishman rose. He held out his 
 hand. "I hope you'll come out all right," 
 he said, with a sudden and rare burst of 
 warmth. "I do indeed. Good luck to 
 you." 
 
 Mr. Creighton shook his hand heartily. 
 "Thank you. I won't. But I'm glad you feel 
 that way." 
 
 He went with his guest to the outer door. 
 The boy had disappeared. Mr. Creighton 
 opened the door. The Duke was about to 
 pass out. He turned back, hesitated a mo- 
 ment. " I shall go up and see your daughter 
 
fis -fortunate race. 103 
 
 at once," he said. "Have I your permission 
 to tell her what what you have told 
 me ?" 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Creighton. "She must 
 know sooner or later." 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE Duke did not call a hansom when he 
 reached the street. The interview to come 
 was several times more trying to face than the 
 last had been ; he preferred to walk the miles 
 between the Equitable Building and Murray 
 Hill. 
 
 He reached the house in an hour. Miss 
 Creighton was in the library reading a novel 
 by the fire, and looked up brightly as he 
 entered. 
 
 " You are a very bad man," she said, "I 
 have waited in for you all day, and it is now 
 half-past four. I am reading Kenilworth. 
 The love scenes are too funny for words. 
 Amy hangs upon Leicester's neck and ex- 
 claims ' My noble earl ! ' Fancy if I called you 
 
 'My noble duke/ How perfectly funny!" 
 104 
 
is fortunate (S>race. 105 
 
 The Duke took his stand on the hearth-rug 
 man's immemorial citadel of defence and 
 tapped his chin with his hat, regarding Mabel 
 stolidly with his fishy pale-blue gaze. He was 
 cross and uncomfortable and hated himself, 
 but his face expressed nothing. 
 
 "I have seen your father," he said. 
 
 ' ' Oh have you ? What what did he 
 say ? " 
 
 "When I asked you to marry me I ex- 
 plained how I was situated." 
 
 "I know won't papa? He's very gen- 
 erous." 
 
 "He can't. He is very seriously em- 
 barrassed." 
 
 The girl's breath shortened painfully. She 
 turned very white. Unconsciously she 
 twisted her hands together. 
 
 "Then we cannot marry?" 
 
 "How can we? Do you want to spend 
 your life hounded by lawyers, money-lenders, 
 
106 gig fimnnale 
 
 . 
 
 and financial syndicates, and unable to keep 
 up your position ? You would die of misery, 
 poor child. I am not a man to make a woman 
 happy on three hundred thousand pounds a 
 year. Poor! It would be hell." 
 
 She did not look up, but sat twirling her 
 rings. 
 
 "You know best," she said, "I don't 
 know the conditions of life in England. If 
 you say that we should be miserable, you 
 must know. I suppose you did not love me 
 very much." 
 
 "Not much, Mabel. I have only the skele- 
 ton of a heart in me. I wonder it does duty 
 at all. You are well rid of me." 
 
 "You certainly did not make any very vio- 
 lent protestations. I cannot accuse you of 
 hypocrisy." 
 
 "One thing I was not half good enough 
 for you. As far as I can remember this is the 
 first time I have ever humbled myself. You 
 
J0rtimate (Bhrace. 107 
 
 are a jolly little thing and deserve better 
 luck." 
 
 She made no reply. 
 
 "I shall cross almost immediately shall 
 give it out that you have refused me." 
 
 " You need not. I have told no one but 
 Augusta. People will think that we are 
 merely good friends. We will treat each 
 other in a frank off-hand manner when we 
 meet out." 
 
 "You are a game little thing! You'd 
 make a good wife, a good fellow to chum 
 with. I wish it could have come round our 
 way." 
 
 He was quick of instinct, and divined that 
 she wanted to be alone. 
 
 " Au revoir," he said. "We meet to- 
 night at dinner, somewhere, don't we ? " 
 
 "At the Burr's." She rose and held out 
 her hand. She was very pale, but quite com- 
 posed, and her flower-like face had the dig- 
 
 3 
 
io8 is fot innate Stare. 
 
 nity which self-respect so swiftly conceives 
 and delivers. He had never been so near to 
 loving her. She had bored him a good deal 
 during the past weeks, but he suddenly saw 
 possibilities in her. They were not great, but 
 they would have meant something to him. 
 He wanted to kiss her, but raised her hand to 
 his lips instead, and went out. 
 
 Mabel waited until she heard the front 
 door close, then ran up to her room and 
 locked herself in. 
 
 "I mustn't cry," was her only thought for 
 the moment. 
 
 " I mustn't mustn't! My eyes are always 
 swollen for four hours and my nose gets such 
 a funny pink. I remember Augusta once 
 quoted some poetry about it. I forget it." 
 
 She looked at the divan. It exerted a 
 powerful magnetism. She saw herself lying 
 face downward, sobbing. She caught hold of 
 a chair to hold herself back. "I can't!" she 
 
is fortunate Cerate. 109 
 
 thought. "I can't! I must brace up for that 
 dinner. The girls must never know. Oh ! I 
 wish I were dead! I wish I were dead!" 
 
 " I wish I were dead! " She said it aloud 
 several times, thinking it might lighten the 
 weight in her breast. But it did not. She 
 looked at the clock and shuddered. "It is 
 only five. What am I to do until Lena 
 comes to dress me? She won't come until 
 half-past six. I can't go to mamma; she 
 would drive me distracted. Oh! I think I 
 am going mad but I won't make a fool of 
 myself." 
 
 She walked up and down the room, 
 clenching her hands until the nails bit the soft 
 palms. "I read somewhere," she continued 
 aloud, "that the clever people suffered most, 
 that their nerves are more developed or some- 
 thing. I wonder what that must be like. 
 Poor things ! I am not clever, and I feel as if 
 I'd dig my grave with my own fingers if I 
 
no 10 4F0rttmate (Stare. 
 
 could get into it. Oh ! Am I going to cry ? 
 I won't. I'll think about something that will 
 make me angry. Augusta. She'll get him 
 now. She's wanted him from the first. I've 
 seen it. She was honourable enough not to 
 regularly try to cut me out, but there's noth- 
 ing in the way now. And she will. I know 
 she will. I hate her. I hate her. Oh, God! 
 What shall I do?" 
 
 She heard the front door open ; a moment 
 later her father ascend the stair and enter 
 his room. She ran across the hall, opened 
 his door without ceremony and caught him 
 about the neck, but still without tears. 
 
 He set his lips and held her close. Then 
 he kissed and fondled her as he had not 
 done for years. "Poor little girl," he said. 
 "I am a terrible failure. God knows I 
 should have been glad to have bought your 
 happiness for you. As it is, I am afraid 
 I have ruined it." 
 
is fortunate C&rare. m 
 
 She noticed for the first time how worn 
 and old he looked. Her development had 
 been rapid during the last hour. She passed 
 on to a new phase. "Poor papa," she 
 said, putting her hands about his face. "It 
 must be awful for you, and you have 
 never told us. Listen. He said I would 
 make a plucky wife, a good fellow. I'll 
 take care of you and brace you up. I'll 
 be everything to you, papa; indeed I will. 
 Papa, you are not crying ! Don't ! I have 
 to go out to dinner to-night ! Listen. I 
 don't care much. Indeed I don't. I'm sure 
 I often wondered why he attracted me so 
 much when I thought him over. Alex says 
 that if he were an American she wouldn't 
 take the trouble to reform him that he 
 isn't worth it. And Hal says he looks 
 like a dough pudding, half baked. It's 
 dreadful that we can't control our feelings 
 better Papa, give me every spare moment 
 
4F0rttmate 
 
 you can, won't you? I can't stand the 
 thought of the girls." 
 
 "Yes," he said, "every minute; and as 
 soon as I can we'll go off somewhere to- 
 gether. It would be a great holiday for 
 me. It is terrible for me to see you suffer, 
 but I am selfish enough to be glad that I 
 shall not lose you. Stay with me awhile. 
 This will pass. You can't believe that now, 
 but it will; and the next time you love, 
 the man will be more worthy of you. I 
 don't want to hurt you, my darling, but 
 for the life of me, I can't think what you 
 see in him." 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THAT evening, shortly after Miss Forbes 
 had been dressed for Mrs. Burr's dinner, 
 her mother entered and dismissed the 
 maid. 
 
 "What is it, mamma?" Augusta de- 
 manded in some surprise. "How odd you 
 look. Not as pretty as usual." 
 
 Mrs. Forbes' lips had withdrawn from 
 their pout; her whole face had lost its 
 sensuousness and seemed to have settled 
 into rigid lines. She went over to the fire 
 and lifted one foot to the fender, then 
 turned and looked at her daughter. 
 
 "Do you wish to marry the Duke of 
 Bosworth ? " she asked abruptly. 
 
 A wave of red rose slowly to Augusta's 
 113 
 
H4 $is ^Fortunate (0>race. 
 
 hair. Her lips parted. "What do you 
 mean?" she enquired after a moment. Her 
 voice was a little thick. "He is engaged to 
 Mabel." 
 
 "He cannot marry Mabel. Mr. Creigh- 
 ton is on the verge of ruin." 
 
 Miss Forbes gasped. "Oh, how dread- 
 ful ! " she exclaimed, but something seemed 
 to suffuse her brain with light. 
 
 "You can marry him if you wish." 
 
 " But Mabel is my most intimate friend. 
 It would be like outbidding her. She has 
 the two hundred thousand dollars that her 
 grandmother left her, and her father could 
 surely give her as much more." 
 
 "What would four hundred thousand 
 dollars be to a ruined Duke, up to his 
 ears in debt? He wants millions." 
 
 "But papa does not like him." 
 
 "Leave your father to me, and be guided 
 entirely by me in this matter. I have a 
 
Ijis fortnnatt (Smics. 115 
 
 plan mapped out if he will not give his 
 consent at once. Do you wish to marry 
 this man ? " 
 
 Miss Forbes drew a hard breath. " I 
 want to marry him more than anything in 
 the world," she said. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 ABOUT the same time, as the Duke of 
 Bosworth was dressing for dinner in his 
 rooms at The Waldorf, he received the 
 following note: 
 
 "DuKY, DUKY, DADDLEDUMS ! I have 
 great news for you. Rush your engage- 
 ments, and come here between twelve and 
 one to-night. F. C." 
 
 As the young Englishman entered Cuyler's 
 rooms a little after midnight, he received 
 such warmth of greeting from a powerful 
 hand concealed behind the portiere that his 
 backbone doubled. 
 
 ' 'For God's sake, Fletcher," he said 
 
 116 
 
is fortunate Q&rate. 117 
 
 crossly, "remember that I am not a Her- 
 cules. What do you want of me ? " 
 
 "Sit down. Sit down. I'll put you in 
 a good humour if I have to break a bank. 
 I've pledged it to my peace of mind. 
 Well, first Creighton has practically gone 
 to smash." 
 
 "I know it. He told me so this after- 
 noon. Poor man, I felt sorry for him; and 
 I think he did for me, although his respect 
 may have been something less than his 
 pity. I know I felt uncommonly cheap, and 
 if he had kicked me out I doubt if I should 
 have resented it. He said that what with 
 his daughter's fortune and some land in- 
 vestments, he might scrape together a hun- 
 dred thousand pounds. I told him it 
 wouldn't pay my debts. Then I had an 
 interview with her. Don't ask me to re- 
 peat it. Good God, what have we come 
 to? Drop the subject." 
 
n8 
 
 "I haven't begun yet. My conscience 
 wouldn't rest, however, unless I paused to 
 remark that I am deuced sorry for the 
 Creightons. They are the best sort, and I 
 hate to see them go under. Well, to pro- 
 ceed. You can have Miss Forbes." 
 
 The nobleman's dull eyes opened. 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 " I had an interview of a purely diplo- 
 matic nature with la belle mere after I left 
 you. She is willing. Miss Forbes is will- 
 ing. Nay, willing is not the word. I 
 named your price the modest sum of 
 $5,000,000. She said you should have it." 
 
 "But Mr. Forbes despises me. By 
 Heaven, I have more respect for that man 
 than for anybody I have met in America. 
 Every time I meet those steel eyes of his 
 I seem to read : ' You poor, miserable, lit- 
 tle wretch of a fortune-hunter ! Go home 
 and blow out your brains, but don't dis- 
 
4)10 fortunate <&rac*. 119 
 
 grace your name by bartering it for our 
 screaming eagles.' He'll never consent." 
 
 " My boy, you need a B. and S. Do 
 brace up." Fletcher wagged his head pa- 
 thetically. "You'll have me crying in a 
 minute. I've been on the verge of tears 
 for the last three weeks. Now let me tell 
 you that you are all right. There may be 
 a tussle, but Forbes is bound to cave in 
 the end. He is infatuated with his wife 
 and she knows her power. She is as set 
 on this match as you could be. She's had 
 the bee in her bonnet for a good many 
 years, to cut as great a dash in London as 
 she does in New York. Of course she's 
 in it in a way when she's over there for 
 a month or two during the season, but 
 she wants a long sight more than that. 
 Her ancestry does her no good because the 
 English trunk of the family died out two 
 hundred years ago. As your mother-in-law 
 
120 is jFortmtate 
 
 she'd be out of sight. A woman with her 
 beauty and brain and style and charm 
 could bring any society in the world to 
 her feet, and keep it there once she had 
 those feet planted beyond the door-mat. 
 Now she is patronised pleasantly as one of 
 many pretty American women who flit 
 back and forth. You've got a powerful 
 ally, and one that's bound to win. Now 
 pull up that long face or I'll hold you 
 under the cold water spout ! " 
 
 " I believe you have put new life into 
 me," said his Grace, the Duke of Bos- 
 worth. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 AUGUSTA was moving restlessly about her 
 boudoir. Her mind was uneasy and a trifle 
 harrowed. For the first time in her life she 
 was not thoroughly satisfied with herself. 
 Once she sat down and opened " Progress 
 and Poverty"; but George had ceased to 
 charm, and she resumed her restless march- 
 ing. Her boudoir was a scarlet confusion of 
 silk and crepe, and conducive to cheerful- 
 ness. Although it extinguished her drab 
 colouring, Augusta usually felt her best in 
 its glow and warmth ; but to-day she felt her 
 worst. 
 
 Suddenly she paused. There was a sound 
 of rapid ascent of stair and familiar voices. 
 She opened her door, and a moment later Mrs. 
 Burr and Miss Maitland entered. Both looked 
 
 121 
 
122 Iig fortunate 
 
 unusually grave, and slightly pugnacious. 
 Augusta experienced a disagreeable sensation 
 in her knees. 
 
 "Has anything happened?" she asked, 
 after she had greeted them and they were 
 seated. 
 
 "Augusta!" said Miss Maitland sternly, 
 " we are perhaps meddling in what is none of 
 our affair; nevertheless, we have made up our 
 minds to speak." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Are you trying to get the Duke of Bos- 
 worth away from Mabel Creighton?" 
 
 "I am not." 
 
 "It looks like it" 
 
 "Does it?" 
 
 "You are keeping something back, Au- 
 gusta," said Mrs. Burr. "Out with it." 
 
 Miss Forbes recovered herself. " I am go- 
 ing to marry the Duke of Bosworth," she said 
 distinctly. 
 
fljis fortunate Qbrate. 123 
 
 "Augusts. Forbes!" 
 
 "Yes; and I have not cut out Mabel 
 Creighton. I am perfectly willing to justify 
 myself to you, as we have always kept to our 
 compact to stand the truth from each other. 
 He came over here to marry Mabel, but Mr. 
 Creighton could not give him the portion 
 dot you know. He is dreadfully embar- 
 rassed, but that is a dead secret" 
 
 "And you have out-bid her?" 
 
 "I have done nothing of the sort. The 
 thing was quite settled before the Duke spoke 
 to me." 
 
 "He didn't lose much time. He must 
 have been pretty sure how he would be re- 
 ceived before he wound up with Mabel." 
 
 "I did not discuss that part of it with 
 him." 
 
 "It's too bad you didn't discuss less. 
 Poor Mabel is a wreck. The way she is try- 
 ing to keep up is positively pathetic." 
 
124 fis fortunate <&race. 
 
 "Well, my not marrying him would not 
 help her." 
 
 "Augusta, you are wood all through." 
 
 The young matron threw herself back in 
 her chair, and beat her knuckles sharply with 
 her lorgnette. Miss Maitland, who had not 
 spoken for some moments, now unburdened 
 herself. 
 
 " I have a good deal to say, Augusta, and I 
 am going to say it. You know we all agreed 
 before we came out that we would regard 
 certain matters in a different light from that 
 of most fashionable girls; we agreed, among 
 other things, that, while enjoying all that our 
 wealth and position offered us, we would read, 
 and think, and endeavour to be of some use in 
 the world not write polemical novels, or be- 
 long to clubs, or anything of that sort, but 
 take the very best advantages of the accident 
 of our birth. And we also agreed do you 
 remember? that we would cultivate higher 
 
fortunate (Bhrace. 125 
 
 ideals than most women care for particularly 
 in our relations to each other and to men. It 
 is three years since that subject was discussed ; 
 but you remember it, I suppose." 
 
 "I do, and I have not broken it." 
 
 " Very well, I shall say no more about that 
 particular phase of the matter; that is for you 
 to settle with your own conscience, and with 
 Mabel. This is what we are chiefly concerned 
 with: there are several ways by which our 
 example can benefit society, and the chief of 
 them is to stop marrying impecunious foreign 
 nobles!" 
 
 She paused a moment. Augusta stiffened 
 up, but made no reply. Miss Maitland re- 
 sumed : 
 
 "As long as we continue to jump at titles 
 whenever they come gold-hunting and Jew- 
 flying, just so long shall we the upper class 
 of the United States, which should be its best 
 be contemptible in the eyes of the world. 
 
i26 is fortunate 
 
 ]ust so long shall we be sneered at in the 
 newspapers, lampooned in novels, excoriated 
 by serious outsiders, and occupy an entirely 
 false place in contemporary history. We are 
 so conspicuous, that everything we do is tittle- 
 tattled in the Press we are such a god-send 
 to them that it is a thousand pities we don't 
 give them something worth writing about. 
 Now, my idea is this : that all we New York 
 girls band together and vow not to marry any 
 foreigner of title, English or otherwise, unless 
 he can cap our prospective inheritance by 
 twice the amount which is equivalent to 
 vowing that we will go untitled to our graves. 
 Also, that such girls as we fail to convert from 
 this nonsensical snobbery, and who insist 
 upon marrying titles whenever they can get 
 them, will see none of us at their wed- 
 dings. 
 
 "Now this is the point: That would not 
 only express to the whole world our contempt 
 
\Q fortunate C&rate. 127 
 
 for the alliance of the fortune-hunter and the 
 snob, but it would raise the self-esteem of our 
 own men, and be one step toward making 
 them better than they are. You couldn't con- 
 vince one of them that we are not all watching 
 the foreign horizon with spy-glasses, waiting 
 to make a break for the first title that appears, 
 and that they have not got to be content with 
 the leavings. But if they saw that we really 
 desired to marry Americans, and, above all, 
 men that we could love and respect, I believe 
 they would make an effort to be worthy of us. 
 That would certainly be one great step gained. 
 The next thing for us to do is to be able to 
 love hard enough to awaken the right kind of 
 love in men." 
 
 "Well?" asked Augusta. 
 
 Miss Maitland's cheeks were flushed. She 
 looked almost beautiful. Augusta felt that 
 she looked pasty, but did not care. She was 
 angry, but determined to control herself. 
 
128 |)i0 ^Fortunate (0>rate. 
 
 "You have a great opportunity. Dismiss 
 the Duke of Bosworth, and avow openly that 
 you will only marry an American that the 
 American at his best is your ideal. How it 
 can be otherwise, as the daughter of your 
 father, passes my comprehension. Will 
 you ?" 
 
 " Bravo, Alexis ! " said Mrs. Burr. " We'll 
 have to find a man who's hunting for an ideal 
 woman. And you didn't mention Socialism 
 once." 
 
 " That belongs to the future. I have come 
 to the conclusion that we must build the house 
 before we can fresco the walls." 
 
 Augusta had risen, and was walking up 
 and down the room. At the end of three or 
 four minutes she paused and faced her visitors, 
 looking down upon them with her habitual 
 calm, slightly accentuated. 
 
 "A month ago I should have agreed 
 with you," she said. "Your ideas, Alex, 
 
gis fortunate (Stars. 129 
 
 are always splendid, and, usually, no one 
 is more willing to adopt them than I. But 
 theories sometimes collide with facts. I 
 am going to marry the Duke of Bos- 
 worth." 
 
 They rose. 
 
 " I hope you'll scratch each other's eyes 
 out ! " said Mrs. Burr. 
 
 "You married for money," retorted Au- 
 gusta. 
 
 "I did, and my reasons were good ones, 
 as you know. Moreover, I married a man, 
 and an American. If I hadn't liked him, 
 and if he'd looked as if he'd been boiled 
 for soup, I wouldn't have looked at him 
 if he'd owned Colorado. Latimer's wings 
 are not sprouting, and he doesn't take 
 kindly to the idea of being reformed, but 
 I don't regret having married him not for 
 a minute. You will. Maybe you won't 
 though." 
 
i3 Ijis fortunate rare. 
 
 Miss Maitland had fastened her coat. She 
 gave her muff a little shake. 
 
 " Good-bye, Augusta," she said icily. 
 "It is too bad that you inherited nothing 
 from your father but his iron will." 
 
 And without shaking hands they went 
 out. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 BUT although Augusta had maintained an 
 attitude of stiff defiance, she was by no 
 means pleased with herself. She rang for 
 her maid, dressed for the street, and a 
 few moments later was on her way to 
 Murray Hill. When she reached the Creigh- 
 ton's she went directly up to Mabel's room, 
 and, after a hasty tap, entered. Mabel was 
 lying full-length on the divan among her 
 rainbow pillows, a silver bottle of smelling- 
 salts at her nose. 
 
 She rose at once. 
 
 "I have a headache," she said coldly. 
 "Sit down." 
 
 " Mabel ! " said Augusta precipitately, 
 "should you think me dishonourable if I 
 
 married the Duke of Bosworth?" 
 131 
 
132 $is -fortunate 
 
 "If I did would it make any differ- 
 ence?" 
 
 "No; but I'd rather you didn't." 
 
 Mabel turned her head away and looked 
 into the logs burning on the hearth. 
 
 "Until you yourself told me that it was 
 over," pursued Augusta, " I gave him no sort 
 of encouragement; but as you cannot marry 
 him yourself, 1 don't see why I shouldn't." 
 
 "No; I suppose there is no reason why 
 you shouldn't. Only it is something I 
 couldn't do myself." 
 
 "You don't know whether you could or 
 not. Nobody knows what abstract senti- 
 ments he'll sacrifice when he wants a 
 thing badly. If somebody suddenly died 
 and left you a fortune, wouldn't you take 
 him from me if you could ? " 
 
 "Yes, I would." 
 
 "Well, that would be much more dis- 
 honourable than anything I have done." 
 
is .fortunate (Stare. 133 
 
 "I suppose so. I don't care. I don't 
 call that kind of thing honour. I wouldn't 
 have done it in the first place." 
 
 " I fail to see any distinction, Mabel. 
 You never had any reasoning faculty. I 
 am much more suited to the Duke, any- 
 how, for he is really clever." 
 
 "It isn't cleverness he's after." 
 
 "Oh, of course he must have money. 
 One is used to that. It's like knowing 
 that lots of people come to your house 
 because you give good dinners; but you don't 
 like them any the less; in fact, don't think 
 about it. We have to take the world as we 
 find it. If you regard the Duke as a for- 
 tune-hunter I wonder you can still love 
 him." 
 
 Mabel turned her head and regarded Miss 
 Forbes with a haughty stare. "I do not 
 love him," she said, "I despise him too 
 thoroughly. It is my pride only that is 
 
134 is fortunate t&ratt. 
 
 irritated. Don't let there be any doubt on 
 that point." 
 
 ' ' Well, I am delighted relieved ! It has 
 worried me, made me genuinely unhappy; 
 it has indeed, Mabel dear. I will admit 
 that I had misgivings, that I was not al- 
 together satisfied with myself; but now I 
 can be as happy as ever again. And you 
 don't think it dishonourable ? Please say 
 that." 
 
 "No, I don't think it dishonourable; (for 
 we are no longer friends)," she added to 
 herself; but she was too generous to say 
 it aloud. 
 
 Augusta went away a few minutes later, 
 and Mabel, who was not going out that 
 evening, flung herself on the divan, and 
 sobbed into her cushions. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 SEVERAL evenings later, a banquet was 
 given to a party of Russian notables. As 
 no young people were invited, Augusta, 
 chaperoned by her father's sister, Mrs. Van 
 Rhuys, arranged a theatre party, which in- 
 cluded the English Duke. 
 
 As Mrs. Forbes stood between her mir- 
 rors that evening, she wondered if she had 
 ever looked more lovely. She wore a gown 
 of ivory white satin, so thick that it 
 creaked, and entirely without trimming, 
 save for the lace on the bust. But about 
 the waist, one end hanging almost to the 
 hem of the gown was a ribbon of large 
 pigeon-blood rubies. A collar of the same 
 
 gems lay at the base of her long round 
 135 
 
136 Sis fortunate <&>race. 
 
 throat. Above her brow blazed a great 
 star, the points set with diamonds, radiat- 
 ing from a massive ruby. A smaller star 
 clasped the lace at her breast. The brace- 
 lets on her arms, the rings on her fingers, 
 sparkled pink and white. 
 
 Her lips parted slightly. She thrilled 
 with triumph, intoxicated with her beauty 
 and magnificence. For this woman could 
 never become blase, never cease to be 
 vital, until the shroud claimed her. 
 
 Nevertheless, she felt unaccountably ner- 
 vous. She had felt so all day. 
 
 "I am quite well, am I not, mammy?" 
 she said to an old negro woman who sat 
 regarding her with rapt admiration. The 
 negress had been Virginia's nurse and per- 
 sonal attendant for thirty-nine years. Only 
 the ocean for which she had an unsur- 
 mountabie horror had separated them. In 
 Augusta she had never taken the slightest 
 
fortunate (Srare. 137 
 
 interest, but over her idolized mistress she 
 exercised an austere vigilance. And as she 
 was a good old-fashioned doctor, and under- 
 stood Mrs. Forbes' constitution as had it 
 been a diagram of straight lines, she was 
 always on the alert to checkmate nature, and 
 rarely unsuccessful. 
 
 "You sut'n'y is, honey," she replied. 
 ''You never was pearter. No wonder you 
 git 'cited sometimes with all dose purty 
 things that cos' such heaps and heaps o' 
 money. Yo' uster go wild over yore toys, 
 and you al'ays will be de same." 
 
 It was not yet eight and Mrs. Forbes 
 seated herself lightly on the old woman's knee. 
 At that moment Augusta entered the room. 
 
 "Mother!" she exclaimed in a disgusted 
 voice. "Do get up. I declare you are 
 nothing but a big overgrown baby. If it 
 isn't papa it's mammy, and if it isn't mammy 
 it's papa." 
 
138 fi0 fortunate 
 
 " I suppose you can get through life with- 
 out coddling," replied her mother, undis- 
 turbed; "but I can't. You look remarkably 
 well this evening." 
 
 "Thanks." Miss Forbes regarded herself 
 complacently in the mirror. She wore black 
 and pink and there was colour in her face. 
 "I'm no beauty, but I think I do look rather 
 well, and this frock is certainly a stunning 
 fit. You are a vision as usual. There is the 
 carriage." 
 
 Mrs. Forbes rose and the maid enveloped 
 her in a long mantle of white velvet lined with 
 ermine. The old negress adjusted the inner 
 flap over the chest and wrapped a lace scarf 
 about the softly-dressed hair. 
 
 "You is a leetle nervous, honey," she said. 
 " Has anything put yo' out ? Don't you tetch 
 one bit o' sweets to-night and not a drap o' 
 coffee." 
 
 "I'll have it out when we come home, and 
 
4ps fortunate (ftrare. 139 
 
 get it over," thought Mrs. Forbes as she went 
 down the stair and smiled to her husband, 
 who awaited her in the hall below. " That is 
 what is making me so nervous." 
 
 Mr. Forbes, like many New York million- 
 aires, had spread his house over all the land 
 he could buy in one spot on The Avenue, and 
 there was no porte cochere. When his wife 
 was obliged to go out in stormy weather an 
 awning was erected between the front doors 
 and the curb-stone. To-night it was snowing 
 heavily. As she appeared on the stair two 
 men-servants opened the doors and flung a 
 carpet from the threshold to the carriage-step. 
 If Virginia Forbes had ever wet her boots 
 or slippers she could not recall the occasion. 
 
 She was the sensation of the dinner and of 
 the reception afterward. The foreigners stood 
 about her in a rivetted cluster, and with the 
 extravagance of their kind assured her that 
 there was no woman in Europe at once so 
 
 10 
 
140 ips fortunate (Bmue. 
 
 beautiful and so clever. She took their flat- 
 teries for what they were worth; they could 
 have salaamed before her without turning her 
 head ; but she revelled in the adulation, never- 
 theless. 
 
 Mr. Forbes had two important letters to 
 write when they returned home, and she 
 went with him to the library. As he took 
 the chair before his desk she got him a fresh 
 pen, then poured him some whisky from the 
 decanter. She was as fresh as when she had 
 left the house, and he looked at her with pas- 
 sionate admiration. 
 
 " I should like to be able to tell you 
 how proud I was of you to-night," he 
 said. "Sometimes I believe that you are 
 really the most splendid creature on earth." 
 
 "That is what those princelings were tell- 
 ing me," she said, rumpling his hair. "But 
 you flatter me much more, for I may suspect 
 that you mean it." 
 
is fortunate 
 
 "Well, sit where I can't see you or I 
 sha'n't do much writing. Don't go, though." 
 
 She took an easy chair by the fire, but 
 although she lay in its depths and put her 
 little feet on a low pouf, she drew the long 
 rope of jewels nervously through her fingers. 
 Once or twice her breath came short, and 
 then she clasped the rubies so closely that the 
 setting dented her skin. 
 
 "I must, must brace up," she thought. 
 " Unless I am at my best I shall be no match 
 for him, and I must win in the first round or it 
 will be a long hard fight that I may not be 
 equal to. Besides, I should hate it." 
 
 She was glad to have the interview in the 
 library, her husband's favourite room. It was 
 a long narrow room, lined to the ceiling with 
 the books of seven generations: Mr. Forbes 
 came of a line of men that had been noted for 
 mental activity in one wise or another since 
 England had civilized America. There were 
 
142 is fortunate 
 
 busts and bas-reliefs of great men, and many 
 pieces of old carved furniture. The curtains, 
 carpet, and easy chairs were lit with red, and 
 very luxurious. The mantel was of black 
 onyx. Above it was a portrait of Mrs. Forbes 
 by Sargeant. The great artist protested that 
 he had interpreted "the very sky and sea-line 
 of her soul." Certain it is that he had chosen 
 to see only that which was noble and alluring. 
 Imperious pride was in the poise of the head, 
 the curve of the short upper lip ; but it was the 
 unself-conscious pride of race and the autoriU 
 of a lovely woman which all men delighted to 
 foster. The eyes, sensuous, tender, expect- 
 ant, were the eyes of a woman who had 
 loved one man only, and that man with fond 
 reiteration. The lower lip was full, the mouth 
 slightly parted. The brow was so clear that 
 it seemed to shed radiance. It uplifted the 
 face, as if the soul dwelt there, at home with 
 the vigorous brain. 
 
4p 10 fortunate <8>race. 143 
 
 Some thin white stuff was folded closely 
 over the small low bust. A string of large 
 pearls was wound in and out of the heavy 
 hair, whose living warmth the artist had not 
 failed to transfer. Indeed, warmth, life, pas- 
 sion, soul, intelligence seemed to emanate 
 from this wonderful portrait, so combined by 
 the limner as to convey an impression of 
 modern womanhood perfected, satisfied, tri- 
 umphant, to which the world could give no 
 more, and from which the passing years 
 would hesitate to steal aught. Sometimes 
 Virginia Forbes stood and regarded it sadly. 
 "It is an ideal me," she would think, "all 
 that I should like to be that I might 
 were it not for this trowelful of clay in my 
 soul." Although Mr. Forbes was too keen 
 a student of human nature to be igno- 
 rant of his wife's faults, his faith was so 
 strong in the large full side of her nature 
 that he had long since felt justified in 
 
144 is fortunate <0>race. 
 
 closing his eyes to all that fell below the 
 ideal. 
 
 He wrote for an hour, then threw the pen 
 down, rose, and ran his fingers through his 
 hair. 
 
 " Thank heaven that is over. I can sleep 
 in peace. How good of you to wait for me. 
 Are you very tired?" 
 
 ''No," she said, and unconsciously her lips 
 lost their fulness, and she clutched the stones 
 so tightly that they bruised her flesh. " Will 
 you sit down, Ned, dear? I want to talk to 
 you." 
 
 "Is anything the matter?" he asked 
 anxiously. "You've lost your colour since 
 you came in. I am afraid you go too hard. 
 New York is a killing place. Shall we go to 
 Asheville for a week or two ? " 
 
 " I never felt better. Sit down there 
 where I can see you ; and light a cigar. I am 
 going to speak of something very important. 
 
gis fortunate (0>race. 145 
 
 You won't like what I say at first ; but I am 
 sure you will when I have finished." 
 
 He sat down, much puzzled. " I don't 
 want to smoke, and I'm afraid something has 
 gone wrong with you. Have you been in- 
 vesting and lost ? You know that I never 
 ask what you do with your money, and if you 
 are short all you have to do is to ask for 
 more." 
 
 "You know that I never would invest 
 money without your advice; and I have 
 scarcely touched this year's income. It is 
 about Augusta." 
 
 Mr. Forbes raised his brows. "Augusta? 
 She doesn't want to take to the public plat- 
 form, I hope." 
 
 "She is in love." 
 
 "What ? Our calm, superior with 
 whom, for heaven's sake?" 
 
 "With the Duke of Bosworth." 
 
 Mr. Forbes sat forward in his chair, press- 
 
146 $is fortunate 
 
 ing his hands upon its arms. The blood rose 
 slowly and covered his face. "The Duke 
 of Bosworth!" he ejaculated. "Do you 
 mean to tell me that our daughter, and a girl 
 who is American to her finger-tips, has had 
 her head turned by a title ? " 
 
 "It is not the title, Ned; it is the 
 man - " 
 
 "Impossible! The man ? Why, he's not 
 a man. He's but I don't choose to express 
 to you or to any woman what I think of 
 him. I never set up to be a saint; I went 
 the pace with other men before I married 
 you; but in my opinion the best thing 
 that remnants like Bosworth can do is to 
 get into the family vault as quickly as 
 possible and leave no second edition be- 
 hind them. He'll leave none of my blood." 
 
 "You misjudge him, dear; I am sure 
 you do. I have talked much with him. 
 He is very intelligent, and, I think, would 
 
is fortunate Qfrrate. 147 
 
 be glad to live his life over. It is his 
 delicate physique that gives him the ap- 
 pearance of a wreck." 
 
 "Excuse me. I have seen men of deli- 
 cate physique all my life. I am also a man 
 of the world. Sooner than have that puny 
 demoralised creature the father of my grand- 
 children, I should gladly see Augusta spend 
 her life alone happy as we have been. I 
 cannot understand it. She must be hyp- 
 notised. And you, Virginia! I am ashamed 
 of you. I cannot believe that you have 
 encouraged her. You, the cleverest and 
 most sensible woman I have ever known! 
 Do you wish to see your daughter the 
 wife of that man ? " 
 
 "I should not if she were like some girls. 
 But she has little sentiment and ideality. 
 She is a strong masculine character, just 
 the type to give new life and stamina to 
 the decaying houses of the old world. She 
 
148 Ijis .fortunate race. 
 
 is not as clever as she thinks, but at 
 thirty she will know her limitations and be 
 a very level-headed well-balanced woman. 
 She will shed no tears over the Duke's 
 defections, and you know what Darwin 
 says about the children of strong mothers 
 and dissipated eldest sons. I am sure 
 that Augusta's children will not disgrace 
 you." 
 
 "What you say sounds well: I never 
 yet knew you to fail to make out a good 
 case when driven to a corner; but this 
 miserable man's children will not be my 
 grandchildren." 
 
 "Ned, you are so prejudiced. You are 
 such a rampant American." 
 
 "I am, I hope. And you know perfectly 
 well that I am not prejudiced. I know 
 many members of the British peerage for 
 whom I have hearty liking and respect. 
 Some of the best brains the world has 
 
is fortunate (Brace. 149 
 
 ever known have belonged to the English 
 aristocracy. But this whelp if he were the 
 son of as good an American as I am do 
 you think it would make any difference ? 
 And if he were worthy of his blood he 
 could have my daughter and welcome." 
 
 Mrs. Forbes had controlled herself inflex- 
 ibly, but she was conscious of increasing 
 excitement. Her eyes looked as hard and 
 brilliant as the jewels upon her. Her hands 
 trembled as she played with her rope of 
 rubies. She recognised that he was con- 
 clusive; that it would be worse than folly 
 to resort to endearment and cajolery, even 
 could she bring herself to the mood. But 
 before such uncompromising opposition her 
 ambition cemented and controlled her, was 
 near to torching reason and judgment. 
 She would not trust herself to speak for 
 a moment, but looked fixedly at her hus- 
 band. 
 
is fortunate Omue. 
 
 "I thought this little fortune-hunter was 
 engaged to Mabel Creighton," he said ab- 
 ruptly. 
 
 "That was all a mistake " 
 
 "He found out that Creighton was in a 
 hole, I suppose. Virginia! it is not possi- 
 ble ? you did not tell him ? you have not 
 been scheming to bring about this damna- 
 ble transaction?" 
 
 " Of course I did not tell him. I wish 
 you wouldn't screw up your eyes like that 
 at me. I saw before he had been here a 
 week that he had fallen in love with Au- 
 gusta " 
 
 "Love be damned! Do you imagine a 
 man like that loves ? " 
 
 "Well, liked then. Of course he cannot 
 afford to marry without money " 
 
 "And I am expected to buy him, I sup- 
 pose?" 
 
 " Don't be so coarse! Now listen to me, 
 
is fortunate C&race. 
 
 Ned. / want this match. Of course I 
 should not move in the matter if I did 
 not respect the Duke, and if Augusta didn't 
 love him as much as she is capable of 
 loving. But I want this English alliance 
 and there may never be another opportu- 
 nity. I will state the fact plainly it would 
 give me the greatest possible satisfaction to 
 know that my position was as assured in 
 England as it is in America - " 
 
 "Good God! What is the matter with 
 you American women ? If you sat down 
 and worked it out, could you tell why 
 you are all so mad about the English no- 
 bility ? Or wouldn't you blush if you 
 could ? As I said the other day it is a 
 germ disease a species of brain-poisoning. 
 It eats and rots. It demoralises like mor- 
 phine and alcohol. After a woman has 
 once let herself go, she is good for noth- 
 ing else for the rest of her life. She eats, 
 
152 i0 fortunate 
 
 drinks, sleeps, thinks English aristocracy. 
 Even you, if I gave you your head, would 
 find it in you to become a veritable cor- 
 onet-chaser you! my God! Well, it won't 
 be in my time; and if Augusta runs off 
 with this debased dishonoured little wretch 
 she'll not get one cent of mine. And 
 there will be no breaking of wills; I'll dis- 
 pose of my fortune before I die. I 
 shall take good care to let him know 
 this at once, for I make no doubt he's des- 
 perate - " 
 
 Mrs. Forbes sprang to her feet. "You 
 never spoke so to me before," she cried 
 furiously. "I do not believe you love me. 
 So long as I spend my life studying your 
 wishes and I have studied them for twenty- 
 two years you are amiable and charming 
 enough; but now that your wife and daugh- 
 ter want something that you don't wish 
 to give them, that doesn't happen to suit 
 
Ijis fortunate (Bmu*. 153 
 
 your fancy, you turn upon me in your 
 true character of a tyrant " 
 
 "Virginia! hush!" said Mr. Forbes 
 sternly. "I have done nothing of the sort. 
 You are talking like a petulant child. Come 
 here arid tell me that you will think no 
 more of this wretched business " 
 
 He went forward, but she moved rapid- 
 ly aside. 
 
 "Don't touch me," she said. "I am not 
 in the mood to be touched. And I shall 
 never be happy again if you refuse your 
 consent to this marriage." 
 
 "Never be what? Has our happiness 
 rested on so uncertain a foundation as that? 
 I thought that you loved me." 
 
 "Oh, I do. Of course I do. But can't 
 you understand that love isn't everything 
 to a woman ? any more than it is to a 
 man ? I would be married to no other 
 man on earth, not to a prince of the 
 
154 flis fortunate 
 
 blood. But it is not everything to me any 
 more than it is everything to you. Sup- 
 pose you were suddenly stripped of your 
 tremendous political influence, of your finan- 
 cial power, and reduced to the mere do- 
 mestic and social round ? Would I suf- 
 fice ? Not unless you were eighty and in 
 need of a nurse." 
 
 She had drawn herself up to her full 
 commanding height. Her head was thrown 
 back, her nostrils were distended, her lips 
 were a scarlet undulating line. There was 
 no other colour in her face. It looked as 
 opaque, as hard as ivory. The eyes were 
 merciless; even their brown had lost its 
 warmth. The jewels with which she was 
 hung, which glowed with deep rubescent 
 fire on her robe and neck and brow, gave 
 her the appearance of an idol an idol which 
 had suddenly been informed with the spirit 
 of pitiless ambition and spurned its creator. 
 
is fortunate Qfrrate. 155 
 
 Mr. Forbes had turned very grey. His 
 nostrils and lips contracted. His teeth set. 
 Involuntarily he glanced from the woman to 
 the portrait. The portrait was more alive 
 than the woman. 
 
 "Don't you understand?" she demanded. 
 
 "No," he said, "I don't think I do. At 
 least I hope I do not. At all events, I 
 hope we may not discuss this subject again. 
 I did not tell you that I intend to pull 
 Creighton through. I cannot see an old 
 friend go under. It will be to the Duke's 
 interest to push his suit in that quarter 
 if they want him. Now, please go to your 
 room. You are very much excited. If you 
 were not I hardly think you would have 
 spoken as you have." 
 
 He went to the end of the room and 
 opened the door. She passed him quickly 
 with averted head. 
 
 n 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 ONCE more father and daughter faced each 
 other across the breakfast table. This time, 
 Augusta, with a very red face, stared defiantly 
 into bitter and contemptuous eyes. 
 
 "And your socialism ? Do you expect to 
 convert your Duke ? " 
 
 "No, papa; of course not." 
 
 " It is exactly five weeks since you informed 
 me that you wished me to devote my fortune 
 to the dear people." 
 
 "I know it, papa. One looks at things 
 very differently when one looks at them 
 through a man's eyes, as it were I mean 
 through the eyes of the man one has fallen in 
 love with; of course I always have had the 
 
 highest respect for your opinion. Now, it 
 156 
 
{)i0 fortunate race. 157 
 
 seems to me a grand thing to restore the 
 fortunes of an ancient and illustrious 
 house " 
 
 "That is the reason the good God per- 
 mitted me to be born, I suppose to sacrifice 
 some ten or fifteen years of man's allotted 
 span in accumulating millions with which to 
 prop up a rotten aristocracy." 
 
 " Papa! I never knew you to be so bitter. 
 You are quite unlike yourself this morning. 
 Of course, we don't all look at things in the 
 same way in this world. But I don't wish 
 you to think that I have entirely forsaken my 
 old principles. I should do much good with 
 my money in England. The poverty is said 
 to be frightful there; and I hear that the 
 working-men on the great estates only get 
 a pound a week, and sometimes less. I 
 should pay those on our estates more, my 
 self." 
 
 "It doesn't occur to you, I suppose, that 
 
158 fis fortunate (Srace. 
 
 American-made millions should be spent in 
 America, and that we have poverty enough of 
 our own." 
 
 " Our poor are mostly Europeans," she re- 
 torted quickly. 
 
 He gave a brief laugh. "You have me 
 there. Well; go on. You intend to reform 
 this poor little trembling sore-eyed weak- 
 kneed, debauchee " 
 
 "Father! I will not permit you to speak 
 in that way of the Duke of Bosworth." 
 
 She had sprung from her chair. Like all 
 phlegmatic natures, when the depths were 
 stirred she was violent and ugly. She looked 
 as if about to leap upon her parent and beat 
 him. 
 
 He rose also and looked down on her. 
 " You will not do what ? " he said with a cut- 
 ting contempt. "Go upstairs to your room, 
 and stay there until I give you permission 
 to leave it. And understand here, once for 
 
fortunate (State. 159 
 
 all, that not one dollar of mine will ever go 
 into that man's pocket. If he marries you, 
 he will have to support you, or you him: 
 I shall not take the trouble to enquire 
 which." 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 MR. FORBES was obliged to go that morn- 
 ing to Boston, to remain until the following 
 evening. He did not see his wife before he 
 left had not seen her since the interview in 
 the library. She had locked herself in her 
 room, and he was not the man to hammer on 
 a sulking woman's door. 
 
 Several men he knew were in his car, and 
 he talked with them until the train reached 
 Boston. There he was engrossed; he had 
 barely time to snatch a few hours for sleep, 
 none for thought. But the next day, after 
 taking his chair in the train for New York, 
 and observing that he knew no one in the 
 car, he became aware that the heart within 
 him was heavy. He and his wife had quar- 
 
 160 
 
fortunate (Sfrace. 161 
 
 relied before, for she had a hot Southern 
 temper, and he was by no means without 
 gunpowder of his own; but none of their 
 disputes had left behind it the flavour of this. 
 That she should tolerate such a man as Bos- 
 worth, had disappointed him ; that she should 
 espouse his pretensions to their only child, 
 filled him with disgust and something like 
 terror; and her snobbery sickened him. But 
 what had stabbed into the quick of his heart 
 were her final words. He repeated them 
 again and again, hoping to dull their edge. 
 Moreover, she had never let the night set 
 its ugly seal on their quarrels. Her tempers 
 were soon over, and she had invariably come 
 to him and commanded or coaxed for rec- 
 onciliation, as her mood dictated. He had 
 steered safely through the first trying years 
 of matrimony, and it appalled him to think 
 that perhaps an unreckoned future lay before 
 them both. 
 
1 62 gig iF0rttmate (3>race. 
 
 When he entered his house something 
 struck him as out of the common. A servant 
 had fetched his portmanteau from the cab. 
 It suddenly occurred to Mr. Forbes that the 
 man had ostentatiously evaded his eye. 
 
 He walked toward the stair, hesitated, then 
 turned. 
 
 "Is Mrs. Forbes well?" he asked; and he 
 found that he was making an effort to control 
 his voice. 
 
 The man flushed and hung his head. 
 "Mrs. Forbes and Miss Augusta sailed for 
 Europe this afternoon, sir. There's a letter 
 for you on the mantel-piece in the library." 
 
 Mr. Forbes did not trust himself to say, 
 " Ah! " As he turned the knob of the library 
 door his hand trembled. He entered, and 
 locked the door behind him. 
 
 He opened the letter at once and read it. 
 
 "I think you did not understand on Mon- 
 
Ijis fortunate (&rate. 163 
 
 day night that I was in earnest," it ran. "I 
 am so much in earnest that I shall not stay 
 here to bicker with you. That we have never 
 done. I do not wish to run the risk of speak- 
 ing again as I spoke the last time we were to- 
 gether. I know that I hurt you, and I am very 
 sorry. If I did not believe that you were en- 
 tirely wrong in the stand you have taken, I 
 should not think of taking any decisive step in 
 the matter myself; for it hurts me to hurt you 
 please believe that. But I feel sure that as 
 soon as you are alone and think it over calmly, 
 you will see that your opposition is hardly 
 warrantable, and that the wishes of your wife 
 and daughter are worthy of serious considera- 
 tion. If we remained to renew the subject 
 constantly you would not give it this con- 
 sideration ; there would be an undignified and 
 regrettable war of words every day. 
 
 " This is what I have made up my mind to 
 do: if you persist in refusing your consent 
 
1 64 4ps .fortunate (0>race. 
 
 which I cannot believe I shall, on the tenth 
 day of March, turn over all my own property 
 to the Duke: my houses in Newport and 
 Asheville, my horses and yacht, and my 
 jewels. Two days later they will marry. I 
 stand pledged to these two people that they 
 shall marry, and nothing will induce me to 
 break my word. 
 
 "I sail to-day with Augusta on the Bre- 
 tagne; I go to Paris first to order the trousseau. 
 My address will be the ' Bristol ' ; but I shall 
 only be in Paris a week. From there I shall 
 go to London to the 'Bristol.' The Duke 
 and Fletcher Cuyler sail to-day on the Ma- 
 jestic. 
 
 "I am afraid I have expressed myself bru- 
 tally. My head aches. I am very nervous. I 
 can hardly get my thoughts together, with all 
 this hurry and confusion, and the unhappy 
 knowledge that I am displeasing you. But 
 this cloud that has fallen between us can be 
 
ijjis frrrttmate (3>race. 165 
 
 brushed aside ; we can be happy again, and 
 at once. It only rests with you. 
 
 " VIRGINIA. 
 
 "I have told Harriet to make a plausible 
 explanation of our abrupt departure. She has 
 a talent for that sort of thing. No one need 
 know that there has been the slightest differ- 
 ence of opinion." 
 
 Mr. Forbes dropped the letter to the 
 floor, and leaned forward, his elbows dig- 
 ging into his knees, his hands pressed to his 
 head. 
 
 He stared at the carpet His face was as 
 white as if someone had struck him a blow 
 in a vital part. The tears gathered slowly 
 in his eyes and rolled over his cheeks. 
 Suddenly his hands covered his face; and 
 sobs shook him from head to foot. 
 
 "What have 1 loved?" he thought. 
 "What have I loved? Have I been in a 
 
166 is fortunate 
 
 fool's paradise for twenty-two years ? Oh, 
 my God! " 
 
 This woman had been the pre-eminent 
 consideration of the best years of his life. 
 He had loved her supremely. He had been 
 faithful to her. He had poured millions at 
 her feet, delighted to gratify her love of 
 splendour and power. And never had a 
 man seemed more justified. She had half 
 lived in his arms. She had been his com- 
 rade and friend, a source of sympathy and 
 repose and diversion and happiness that had 
 never failed him; for nearly a quarter of a 
 century. And now she had sold him, trod- 
 den in the dirt his will, his pride, his 
 heart, that she might finger a coronet which 
 could never be hers, but gloat over the 
 tarnish on her fingers. 
 
 He sat there for many hours. Dinner 
 was announced, but he paid no heed. He 
 reviewed his married life. It had seemed 
 
is fortunate (0>race. 167 
 
 to him very nearly perfect. It lost noth- 
 ing in the retrospect. He doubted if many 
 men were as happy as he had been, if 
 many women had as much to give to a 
 man as Virginia Forbes. And now it had 
 come to a full stop; to be resumed, pitted 
 and truncated, in another chapter. The de- 
 light of being petted and spoiled and 
 adored by a man whom all men respected, 
 the love and communion upon which she 
 had seemed passionately dependent, were 
 chaff in the scale against her personal and 
 social vanities. 
 
 Life had been very kind to him. Money, 
 position, influential friends had been his 
 birthright. His talents had been recognised 
 in his early manhood. He had turned his 
 original thousands into millions. No man 
 in the United States stood higher in the 
 public estimation, nor could have had a 
 wider popularity, had he chosen to send 
 
168 |ji0 fortunate (Srace. 
 
 his magnetism to the people. No Ameri- 
 can was more hospitably received abroad. 
 Probably no man living was the object of 
 more kindly envy. And yet he sat alone 
 in his magnificent house and asked himself, 
 "For what were mortals born?" His 
 heart ached so that he could have torn it out 
 and trampled on it. And the gall that bit 
 the raw wound was the knowledge that 
 he must go on loving this woman so 
 long as life was in him. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 MRS. FORBES and her daughter had been 
 in London two weeks. The engagement 
 had been announced by the Duke a week 
 previously, and was the sensation of the 
 hour. The American newspapers were 
 agog, but, as Mr. Forbes refused to be in- 
 terviewed, were obliged to content them- 
 selves with daily bulletins from London. 
 Mr. Forbes' opposition was suspected, but 
 could not be verified. When congratulated, 
 he replied diplomatically that he was not 
 a warm advocate of international marriages. 
 He hedged with a sense of bitter abase- 
 ment, but he could not fling his dignity 
 into the public maw. 
 
 Mrs. Van Rhuys informed people that, 
 169 
 
170 flis fortunate C&race. 
 
 personally, her brother liked the Duke of 
 Bosworth, but had hoped that Augusta 
 would marry an American. She could not 
 name the exact amount of the dowry; sev- 
 eral millions, probably. The Duke seemed 
 singularly indifferent. He wished the mar- 
 riage to take place at once and in Eng- 
 land, that his mother, who idolized him, 
 might be present. Wherefore the sudden 
 move, as the trousseau was of far more 
 importance than the breaking of a dozen 
 social engagements. Mr. Forbes would go 
 over for the wedding, of course unless 
 this dreadful financial muddle prevented. 
 She and her brother-in-law, Schuyler Van 
 Rhuys, who was nursing the wound in- 
 flicted by that unintelligible Californian, 
 Helena Belmont, should go, in any case. 
 No; the Duke had not jilted Mabel Creigh- 
 ton. On the contrary, Mabel might be 
 said to have made the match. She and 
 
I)i0 fortunate (Smite. 171 
 
 the Duke had known each other for a long 
 while, and were the best of friends, noth- 
 ing more. 
 
 All the folk in London of the Duke's set 
 had called on Mrs. Forbes and the impend- 
 ing Duchess. As Parliament was sitting, 
 there was a goodly number of them. The 
 United States Ambassador gave a banquet 
 in honour of the engagement, and it was 
 the first of many attentions. 
 
 But the Duke was a man in whom few 
 beyond his intimate circle took personal 
 interest: he was cold, repellent, unpictur- 
 esque. The heiress had neither beauty nor 
 the thistle-down attraction of the average 
 American girl. It was Virginia Forbes who 
 introduced a singular variation into this 
 important but hackneyed transaction, and 
 atoned for the paucities of the principal 
 figures: she absorbed something more than 
 two-thirds of the public attention. Her 
 
 12 
 
172 ^is fortunate <&race. 
 
 beauty, her distinction, her lively wit, her 
 exquisite taste in dress, her jewels, above 
 all her girlish appearance, commanded the 
 reluctant admiration or the subtle envy of 
 the women, the enthusiasm of the men, 
 and the unflagging attentions of the weekly 
 press. Her ancestry was suddenly discov- 
 ered, and was a mine of glittering and 
 illimited strata. Her photograph was printed 
 in every paper which aimed to amuse a 
 great and weary people, and was on sale 
 in the shops. In short, she was the 
 "news" of the hour; and the twentieth of 
 his line and the lady who would save the 
 entail were the mere mechanism selected 
 by Circumstance to steer a charming wom- 
 an to her regalities. 
 
 ' 'You certainly ought to be in a state of 
 unleavened bliss," remarked her daughter 
 with some sarcasm one evening as they 
 sat together after tea, alone for the hour. 
 
fortunate >rare. 173 
 
 "You simply laid your plans, sailed over, 
 and down went London. I never knew 
 anything quite so neat in my life. But it 
 is in some people's lines to get every- 
 thing they want, and I suppose you will 
 to the end of the chapter." 
 
 Mrs. Forbes was gazing into the fire 
 through the sticks of a fan. Her face was 
 without its usual colour and her lips were 
 contracted. 
 
 "Not a line from your father, and it is 
 three weeks," she said abruptly. 
 
 "You did not expect him father! to 
 come round in a whirl, I suppose. But 
 why do you worry so ? You know that 
 it can end in one way only. We are all 
 he has, and he adores us, and cannot live 
 without us. It isn't as if he were fast, 
 like so many New York men. I have not 
 worried not for a moment." 
 
 "How can you be so cold-blooded? I 
 
174 $is fortunate (3>race. 
 
 wish you knew the wretch I feel. If he 
 does adore us, cannot you comprehend 
 what we are making him suffer? Some- 
 times I think I can never make it up to 
 him, not with all the devotion I am capable 
 of, after this miserable business is over." 
 
 " Mother ! You are not weakening ? 
 You will not retreat now that you have 
 gone so far ? " 
 
 " I have no intention of retreating. But 
 I wish that I had stayed in New York 
 and fought it out there. It was a shock- 
 ing and heartless thing to run away and 
 leave him like that, a brutal and insulting 
 thing; but when he told me that he should 
 pull Mr. Creighton through, and speak to 
 the Duke, this move seemed the only one 
 that could save the game." 
 
 ''And a very wise one it was. Father 
 would have beaten you in the end surely ; 
 he can do anything with you. I think it is 
 
-fortunate (B>race. 175 
 
 humiliating to be part and parcel of a man 
 like that" 
 
 "You know nothing of love. You are 
 fascinated by a man who has the magnetism 
 of indifference ; that is all." 
 
 "I am quite sure that I love Bertie," said 
 Miss Forbes with decision. "I have analyzed 
 myself thoroughly, and I feel convinced that 
 it is love although I thank my stars that I 
 could never in any circumstances be so besot- 
 tedly in love with a man as you are with dear 
 papa. I do not pretend to deny that I am 
 pleased, very pleased, at the idea of being a 
 Duchess. All we American girls of the best 
 families have good blue English blood in our 
 veins, and it seems to me that in accepting the 
 best that the mother country can offer us, we 
 should feel no more flattered or excited than 
 any English-born girl in the same circum- 
 stances. For the nouveau riche the fungi 
 of course it is ridiculous, and also lamentable : 
 
176 10 iForttmate rare. 
 
 they muddy a pure stream, and they are chro- 
 mos in a jewelled frame. But there are many 
 of us that should feel a certain gratitude to 
 Providence that we are permitted to save 
 from ruin the grand old families whose ances- 
 tors and ours played together, perhaps, as 
 children. To me it is a sacred duty as well as 
 a very great pleasure. Papa's English ances- 
 tors may not have been as smart as yours, but 
 he has seven generations of education and re- 
 finement, position and wealth behind him in 
 the United States ; he is the chief figure in the 
 aristocracy of the United States ; and in time 
 he must see things as we do." 
 
 To this edifying homily Mrs. Forbes gave 
 scant attention. She was tormented with 
 conjectures of her husband's scorn and dis- 
 pleasure, picturing his loneliness. Sometimes 
 she awoke suddenly in the night, lost the 
 drift for the moment of conversation in com- 
 pany, saw a blank wall instead of the mise en 
 
is fortunate (Bmue. 177 
 
 scene of the play, her brain flaring with the 
 enigma: "Will life ever be quite the same 
 again ? " She had had a second object in leav- 
 ing New York abruptly : she believed that her 
 husband could not stand the test of her ab- 
 sence and anger. But in the excitement and 
 rush of those two days she had not looked 
 into her deeper knowledge of him. She had 
 known him very well. It was a dangerous 
 experiment to wound a great nature, to shat- 
 ter the delicate partition between illusion and 
 an analytical mind. 
 
 " What a dreadful sigh!" expostulated Miss 
 Forbes. "It is bad for the heart to sigh like 
 that I don't think you are very well. I 
 don't think, lovely as you look, that you have 
 been quite up to mark since we left New 
 York." 
 
 "I suppose it is because I was ill crossing; 
 I never was before, you know. And then it 
 is the first time in my life that I have been 
 
fiis JFortttttflte (Brace, 
 
 away from both your father and mammy. I 
 am so used to being taken care of that I feel as 
 if I were doing the wrong thing all the time, 
 and Marie is merely a toilette automaton. 
 This morning the clothes were half off the bed 
 when I woke up, and the window was open ; 
 and yesterday Marie gave me the wrong wrap, 
 and I was cold all the afternoon." 
 
 ' 'Good heavens, mother!" cried Miss 
 Forbes. " Fancy being thirty-nine and such a 
 baby. I feel years older than you." 
 
 "And immeasurably superior. I suppose 
 the petting and care I have had all my life 
 would bore you. Well, your cold independent 
 nature often makes me wonder what are its 
 demands upon happiness. Does Bertie ever 
 kiss you ? " 
 
 "Occasionally; but I don't care much 
 about kissing. We discuss the questions of 
 the day." 
 
 "Poor man!" 
 
Ijis JF0rtnnflte <0>rac*. 179 
 
 "I am sure that he likes it, and we shall get 
 along admirably. I am the stronger nature, 
 and I feel reasonably certain that I shall acquire 
 great influence over him, and make an exem- 
 plary man of him." 
 
 "Great heavens!" thought Mrs. Forbes. 
 "A plain passionless pseudo-intellectual girl 
 reforming an English profligate! What a 
 sight for the gods!" 
 
 " I hope papa will come round before the 
 wedding, because I wish only the interest 
 of my dowry settled on us, and it takes a 
 man to hold out on that point. That would 
 give me the upper hand in a way. You 
 have not written to him since we left, have 
 you ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Don't you think it is time?" 
 
 "I intend to write by to-morrow's 
 steamer." 
 
 "Do make him really understand that he 
 
i8o is 4F0rtmtat* race. 
 
 is forcing you to sacrifice the houses and 
 jewels to which you are so much attached." 
 "I shall make it as strong as I can." 
 "I'll write to Aunt Harriet, and tell her to 
 talk to him. Poor dear papa, I am afraid he is 
 lonesome. I wish he would come over so 
 that we could all be together again. Give him 
 my love and a kiss." 
 
 " You certainly have a magnificent sense of 
 humour." 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 MR. FORBES read his wife's second letter 
 with dry eyes. His face, during the past 
 weeks, had been habitually hard and severe. 
 He looked older. It was a long letter. It was 
 fragrant with love and admitted remorse ; but 
 it reasserted that unless he made the required 
 settlement three weeks from receipt she would 
 hand over to the Duke's attorneys all she pos- 
 sessed. 
 
 Mr. Forbes tore the letter into strips and 
 threw them on the fire. His face had flushed 
 as he read ; and as he lay back in his chair, it 
 relaxed somewhat. 
 
 "If she were here would I yield?" he 
 thought. " I am thankful that she is not. Or 
 am I ? I don't know. What fools we mortals 
 
 181 
 
1 82 jis ^fjcrrttmate 
 
 be in the hands of a woman. Five millions 
 seem a small price to have her back. But to 
 pay them, unfortunately, means the free gift of 
 my self-respect. What is to come ? What is 
 to come? I had believed at times that this 
 woman read my very soul and touched it. 
 Her intuitions, her sympathy, her subtle com- 
 prehension of the highest wants of a man's 
 nature and reverence for them amounted to 
 something like genius. Indeed, she had a 
 genius for loving a most uncommon gift. 
 Or so it seemed to me. But I think that few 
 men would appreciate that they were idealising 
 a woman like Virginia Forbes. And now ? I 
 am to take back the beautiful woman, the 
 companionable mind, I suppose nothing 
 more. But it is something to have been a fool 
 for twenty-two years. I cannot say that I 
 have any regrets. And possibly it was my 
 own fault that I could not make her love me 
 better." 
 
10 fortunate <S>race. 183 
 
 He looked up at the picture. "Several 
 times," he thought, "I have felt like mount- 
 ing a chair and kissing it. And if I did, I 
 should feel as if I were kissing the lips of a 
 corpse." 
 
 "Ned! Are you there?" 
 
 Mr. Forbes rose instantly. The door had 
 opened, and a tall woman, not unlike Augusta, 
 but with something more of mellowness, had 
 entered. 
 
 "I am glad to see you, Harriet," he said. 
 "What brings you at this hour? Have you 
 come to help me through my solitary 
 dinner ? " 
 
 "I will stay to dinner, certainly." Mrs. 
 Van Rhuys took the chair he offered, and 
 looked at him keenly. "I have just received 
 a letter from Augusta," she said. "Do with- 
 draw your opposition, Ned. Yield gracefully, 
 before the world knows what it is beginning 
 to suspect. And a man can never hold out 
 
1 84 ' flis fortunate 
 
 against his womankind. He might just as 
 well give in at once and save wrinkles." 
 
 "What is your personal opinion of the 
 Duke of Bosworth ? " asked Mr. Forbes 
 curtly. 
 
 "Well, I certainly should have chosen a 
 finer sample of the English aristocracy for Au- 
 gusta, but I cannot sympathise with your 
 violent antipathy to him. His manners are 
 remarkably good for an Englishman, and it 
 would be one of the most notable marriages 
 in American history." 
 
 "You women are all alike," said Mr. 
 Forbes contemptuously. "Would you give 
 your daughter to this man?" 
 
 "Assuredly. I am positive that when 
 the little Duke settles down he will be all 
 that could be desired. He has something 
 to live for now. Poor thing! He has 
 been hampered with debts ever since he 
 came of age. The old Duke was a sad 
 
185 
 
 profligate, but a very charming man. 
 What it is I do not pretend to define, 
 and I say it without any snobbishness, for 
 I am devoted to New York; but there 
 is something about the English aristoc- 
 racy -- 
 
 "Oh!" Mr. Forbes rattled the shovel 
 among the coals "Do, please, spare me. 
 You're all peer-bewitched, every one of 
 you. Don't let us discuss the subject any 
 farther. It is loathsome to me, and I am 
 ashamed of my womankind." 
 
 "Are you determined to let Virginia sell 
 her houses and jewels, Ned ? It will break 
 her heart." 
 
 "She knew what she was doing when 
 she struck the bargain. It was an entirely 
 voluntary act on her part. I see no 
 reason why she should not stand the con- 
 sequences. Shall we go in to dinner?" 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE next evening Miss Forbes dressed for 
 a dinner party in a very bad humour. 
 
 Her mother was prostrated with a violent 
 headache and had been obliged to send an 
 excuse. 
 
 "Such a dreadful thing to do," grumbled 
 Augusta to her maid as she revolved be- 
 fore the pier glass. " Have you asked 
 Marie the particulars ? Is my mother real- 
 ly ill?" 
 
 "Dreadful, I believe, miss." 
 
 " It makes me feel heartless to leave her, 
 but one of us must go, that is certain. 
 Can I see her ? " 
 
 "No, miss. She is trying to sleep." 
 
 "People may have an idea that the path 
 
 186 
 
fortunate <&race. 187 
 
 of an American heiress who is going to 
 marry an English Duke is strewn with 
 Jacqueminots; but I wish they knew what 
 I have gone through in the last month. 
 I wish to heaven papa would come over." 
 
 It was a bright and lively dinner given 
 by a very young and newly-titled United 
 Statesian, who treated the British peerage 
 as a large and lovely joke, and was ac- 
 cepted on much the same footing. The 
 Duke, who had pulled himself together 
 since the swerve in his fortunes, looked 
 something more of a man. His cheeks had 
 more colour and his eye-belongings less. 
 He held himself erectly and talked well. 
 Augusta bored him hideously, but he re- 
 flected that a Duke need see little of his 
 Duchess, and filled his present role credit- 
 ably. Fletcher Cuyler as usual was the life 
 of the company, and even Augusta forgot 
 
 to be intellectual. 
 13 
 
i88 4s fortunate 
 
 A theatre party followed the dinner. Au- 
 gusta returned to the hotel a little after 
 midnight. As she opened the door of the 
 private drawing-room of Mrs. Forbes' suite, 
 she saw with surprise that her mother was 
 sitting by one of the tables. 
 
 "I thought you were in bed with a 
 headache," she began, and then uttered an 
 exclamation of alarm and went hastily for- 
 ward. 
 
 Mrs. Forbes, as white as the dead, her 
 hair unbound and dishevelled, her eyes 
 swollen, sat with clenched hands pressed 
 hard against her cheeks. 
 
 " Mother!" exclaimed Augusta. "You 
 you look terribly. How you must have 
 suffered. Has the pain gone ? " 
 
 "Yes, the pain has gone." 
 
 "Well, I am glad you are better - " 
 
 " It will be a long while before I am bet- 
 ter. Oh, I want your father ! Cable to him ! 
 
is fortunate (State. 189 
 
 Go for him! Do anything, only bring him 
 here." 
 
 "I'll cable this minute if you are really 
 ill. But what is the matter?" 
 
 Mrs. Forbes muttered something. Augusta 
 bent her ear. "What?" she asked. Her 
 mother repeated what she had said. As 
 Augusta lifted her head her face was scarlet. 
 
 "Gracious goodness!" she ejaculated. 
 "Who would ever have thought of such a 
 thing ? " She walked aimlessly to the win- 
 dow, then returned to her mother. "Well," 
 she added, "it's nothing to be so upset 
 about. It isn't as if it were your first. 
 And papa will be delighted." 
 
 Mrs. Forbes flung her arms over the table, 
 her head upon them, and burst into wild 
 sobbing. 
 
 "Good heavens, mother, don't take on 
 so," cried her daughter. "What good 
 could papa do if he were here ? I hope 
 
1 90 ^is fortunate (Bmw. 
 
 I'll never have a baby if it affects one like 
 that." 
 
 She hovered over her mother, much em- 
 barrassed. She was not heartless and would 
 have been glad to relieve her distress; but 
 inasmuch as she was incapable of such dis- 
 tress herself she comprehended not the 
 least of what possessed her mother. She 
 took refuge upon the plane where she was 
 ever at home. 
 
 " I have always said," she announced, 
 "that it is not a good thing for American 
 men to spoil their wives as they do, and 
 particularly as papa spoils you. Here you 
 are in the most ordinary predicament that 
 can befall a woman, and yet you are ut- 
 terly demoralized because he is not here 
 to pet you and make you think you are 
 the only woman that ever had a baby. 
 And upon my word," she added reflect- 
 ively, " I believe he would be perfectly 
 
I)i0 fortunate G$rate. 19* 
 
 happy if he were here. I can just see the 
 fuss he would make over you " 
 
 Here her mother's sobs became so vio- 
 lent that she was roused to genuine con- 
 cern. 
 
 "I'll cable at once," she said. " But what 
 shall I cable ? I don't know how to in- 
 timate such a thing, and I certainly can't 
 say it right out." 
 
 "I will write. Give me the things." 
 Mrs. Forbes raised her disfigured face and 
 pushed back her hair. "It will make me 
 feel better. Of course you cannot cable 
 without alarming him, and he has had 
 enough." 
 
 Augusta brought the writing materials 
 with alacrity. Mrs. Forbes wrote two lines. 
 The tears splashed on the paper. 
 
 "Those will look like real tears," said 
 Augusta reassuringly. " Once I helped 
 Mabel write a letter breaking off an en- 
 
192 4is ^Fortunate (0>rare. 
 
 gagement, and she sprinkled it with the 
 hair-brush. I am sure he must have guessed. 
 Here, I'll send it right away, and then 
 you'll feel better." 
 
 She summoned a bell-boy and dispatched 
 the letter. "There!" she said, patting her 
 mother's head. " He'll be sure to come 
 over now, and all will go as merry as a 
 marriage-bell my marriage-bell. Tell me, 
 mamma, don't you feel that this is a 
 special little intervention of Providence to 
 bring things about just as we want them ? 
 Aren't you glad that this is the end of 
 doubt and worry, and that you can keep 
 your houses and lovely jewels ? " 
 
 "I don't know," said Mrs. Forbes weari- 
 ly. "I want nothing but my husband.'' 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE week passed. No cable came from 
 Mr. Forbes. His wife did not admit further 
 disquiet. She knew his pride. He would 
 come, but not with the appearance of hasten- 
 ing to her at the first excuse. 
 
 She went out as much as she could filled 
 every moment. A part of the trousseau ar- 
 rived, and there were many things to be 
 bought in London. 
 
 She needed all the distraction she could 
 devise. Impatience and longing, regret and 
 loneliness crouched at the four corners of her 
 mind, ready to spring the moment her will re- 
 laxed. The gloomy skies contributed their 
 quota. She was home-sick for the blue and 
 
 white, the electric atmosphere of New York. 
 193 
 
194 $is fortunate (Smtce. 
 
 Nevertheless, when she was surrounded by 
 admirers, during the hours wherein she was 
 reminded that her haughty little head was 
 among the stars, she was content, and had no 
 thought of retreat. 
 
 The letter had left England on a Saturday. 
 She reckoned that her husband would not 
 receive it until the following Monday week. 
 Making allowance for all delays, he could 
 take the steamer that left New York on 
 Wednesday. 
 
 On the Wednesday of the week succeeding 
 she remained in her rooms all day. The time 
 came and passed for the arrival of passengers 
 by the "Cunard" line; but her husband had a 
 strong preference for the "American," and she 
 had made up her mind not to expect him be- 
 fore a quarter to nine in the evening a slight 
 break in the St. Paul's machinery had delayed 
 its arrival several hours. 
 
 She was nervous and excited. Augusta 
 
Ijis fortunate (Smite. 195 
 
 left the hotel and declared that she should not 
 return until the "meeting was quite over." 
 For the last week Mrs. Forbes had been 
 haunted by visions of shipwreck, fire at sea, 
 and sudden death. In these last hours she 
 walked the floor torn by doubts of another na- 
 ture. Suppose her husband would not forgive 
 her, was disgusted, embittered? She had 
 every reason to think that she had deep and 
 intimate knowledge of him; but she knew 
 that people had lived together for forty years 
 before some crook of Circumstance had re- 
 vealed the dormant but virile poison of their 
 natures. Was bitter pride her husband's? 
 For the first time she wished that she had 
 never seen the Duke of Bosworth retreated 
 before the ambitions of a lifetime in detestation 
 and terror. Every part of her concentrated 
 into longing for the man who had made the 
 happiness of her life. She even wished pas- 
 sionately that she had never had a daughter 
 
196 ^is fortunate (Srace. 
 
 to come between them, and with curious 
 feminism loved the baby that was coming the 
 .more. 
 
 She went to the mirror and regarded her- 
 self anxiously. When in society, excitement 
 gave her all her old rich vital beauty, but the 
 reaction left her pale and dull. Would he find 
 her faded ? He had worshipped her beauty, 
 and she would rather have walked out from 
 wealth into poverty than have discovered a 
 wrinkle or a grey hair. But she looked very 
 lovely. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes 
 sparkling. Her warm soft hair when hanging 
 always enriched her beauty. She wore an 
 Empire gown of pale pink satin cut in a high 
 square about the throat. 
 
 "Oh, I look pretty enough," she thought. 
 "If he would only come!" 
 
 For the twentieth time she went to the 
 clock. It was a few minutes to eight. The 
 train was due at twenty minutes past. He 
 
is .fortunate (Smue. 197 
 
 should be at the hotel by a quarter to nine at 
 latest. 
 
 The next hour was the longest of her life. 
 She assured herself that if there was such a 
 result as retributive justice in this world it beat 
 upon her in a fiery rain during those crab-like 
 moments. There was nothing to momentarily 
 relieve the tension, no seconds of expectation, 
 of hope. The roll of cabs in the street was 
 incessant. The corridors of the hotel were so 
 thickly carpeted that she could not hear a foot- 
 fall. Her very hands shook, but she dared not 
 take an anodyne lest she should not be herself 
 when he came. 
 
 She tried to recall the few quarrels of her 
 engagement and their perturbing effect. They 
 were such pale wraiths before this agitation, 
 following years of intense living, and quicked 
 with the full knowledge of the great posses- 
 sion she may have tossed to Memory, that 
 they dissolved upon evocation. She sprang to 
 
198 is fortunate >ra. 
 
 her feet again to pace the room. At that 
 moment the door opened and her husband 
 entered. 
 
 She had purposed to captivate him anew 
 with her beauty, to shed several tears, per- 
 haps, but not enough to blister and inflame. 
 She flew across the room and flung herself 
 about his neck and deluged his face with tears, 
 as she sobbed, and kissed him, and protested, 
 and besought forgiveness. 
 
 His face had been stern as he entered. 
 Although the appeal of her letter was irresisti- 
 ble, he had no intention of capitulating with- 
 out reserves; but no man that loved a woman 
 could be proof against such an outburst of feel- 
 ing and affection, and in a moment he was 
 pressing her in his arms and kissing her. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE next morning Mr. Forbes had an inter- 
 view with Augusta. 
 
 "I don't choose to discuss this matter of 
 your engagement with your mother," he said, 
 "so we will come to an understanding at 
 once, if you please. Are you determined to 
 marry this man, to take your mother's 
 property in case I continue to refuse my 
 consent?" 
 
 " Papa! What else can I do ? The invita- 
 tions are out. We should be the laughing- 
 stock of two continents. Besides, I am 
 convinced that Bertie is the one man I 
 shall ever want to marry, and I cannot give 
 him up." 
 
 "Very well. You and your mother have 
 199 
 
200 4i0 fortunate 
 
 beaten me. Fortunately, you are better able 
 to stand the consequences of your acts than 
 most women. I doubt if you will ever realize 
 them. I have an attorney here. He will con- 
 fer with the Duke's attorneys to-morrow. 
 Only, be good enough to arrange matters so 
 that I shall see as little as possible of your 
 Duke between now and the wedding. Your 
 mother and I shall return to America the day 
 after the ceremony." 
 
 As Mr. Forbes left the room Augusta 
 thoughtfully arranged the chiffon on the front 
 of her blouse. 
 
 "Even a big man," she reflected, "a great 
 big man, a man who can make Presidents of 
 the United States, has no chance in the hands 
 of two determined women. We are quite 
 dangerous when we know our power." 
 
 She added after a moment: 
 
 " How gracefully he gave in. Dear papa! 
 But that is the American of it. We never 
 
is fortunate <&race. 201 
 
 sulk. We lose our temper. We come down 
 with both feet. We even kick hard and 
 long when we want or don't want a thing 
 badly. But when we find that it's all no 
 use, I flatter myself that we know how to 
 climb down." 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE next two weeks flashed by. Besides 
 the accumulating details there were two 
 visits to country houses and a daily break- 
 fast or dinner. Mr. Forbes, who had many 
 friends in London, had no time to be 
 bored. Mrs. Forbes was happy and trium- 
 phant. Augusta's serene components pleas- 
 urably oscillated. 
 
 The wedding was very brilliant, but not 
 gorgeous. Mrs. Forbes was far too clever 
 to give society and the press an excuse to 
 sneer at the "vulgar display of American 
 dollars/' St. George's was decorated with 
 sufficient lavishness to make it appear a 
 bower of delight after the drive through 
 rain and mud, but suggested to no mind 
 the possible cost. 
 
 202 
 
 V 
 
f is fortunate <&rate. 203 
 
 Royalty came from Cannes. The church 
 was crowded to the doors with the best 
 blood in England. The dowager duchess, 
 a stout plainly-garbed old lady, sat with 
 her daughters and grandchildren. She 
 looked placid and rather sleepy. Mrs. 
 Forbes, who was gowned in violet velvet 
 with a point lace vest of new device, was 
 flanked by her husband's relatives and the 
 United States Embassy. Augusta, in a 
 magnificent bridal robe of satin and lace 
 and pearls, her severely-cut features sof- 
 tened by the white mist of her veil, looked 
 stately and imposing. The maidens who 
 flanked her were not the friends of her 
 youth, but their names were writ in the 
 style of chivalry, and Augusta's equanim- 
 ity was independent of sentiment. The 
 Duke's bump of benevolence was on a 
 level with her small well-placed ear, but 
 
 he also looked his best. 
 14 
 
204 is fortunate 
 
 As Mrs. Forbes listened to the words 
 which affiliated her with several of the 
 greatest houses in the history of Europe, 
 she thrilled with gratified ambition and the 
 more strictly feminine pleasure of having 
 her own way. Suddenly her glance rested 
 on her husband. He stood with his arms 
 folded, his eyes lowered, an expression of 
 bitter defeat on his face. 
 
 The blood dropped from her cheeks to 
 her heart; the rosy atmosphere turned grey. 
 "He says that he has forgiven me," she 
 thought. "Has he? Has he? But I will 
 make him! Any impressions can be effaced 
 with time and persistence, and others that 
 are ever present." 
 
 After the ceremony there was a breakfast 
 at the Embassy. Only the members of the 
 two families, the few intimate friends, and 
 the bridesmaids were present. The com- 
 pany was barely seated when Fletcher 
 
iijis fortunate (S>race. 205 
 
 Cuyler rose, leaned his finger tips lightly 
 on the table and glanced about with his 
 affable and impish grin. 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen, your attention if 
 you please," he commanded. " I wish the 
 individually expressed thanks of each mem- 
 ber of this assemblage. Not for being the 
 happy instrument in bringing this auspi- 
 cious marriage about although I confess the 
 imputation but for a more immediate bene- 
 fit, one which I have conferred equally 
 upon each of you, and upon the many 
 hundreds who were so fortunate as to wit- 
 ness the ceremony which bound together 
 two of the most distinguished families of 
 America and Great Britain. I allude to the 
 wedding-march. You doubtless noticed that 
 it was played as it should be, as it rarely 
 is. I have attended twenty-two weddings 
 in St. George's " 
 
 "Sit down, Fletcher," said the First Sec- 
 
so6 fis fortunate (&race. 
 
 retary impatiently. "What are you talking 
 about ? Do kindly take a back seat for 
 once." 
 
 "On the contrary, I am entitled to a 
 high chair in the front row. I played 
 that march. You do not believe me ? Ask 
 the organist when he is able to articulate. 
 He is red-hot and speechless at present. 
 I calmly approached him as he was pull- 
 ing out his cuffs, and said: 'Young man 
 (he is venerable, but I too am bald), 
 'move aside if you please. I am to play 
 this wedding-march. The Duke of Bos- 
 worth is my particular friend. It is my way 
 of giving him good luck. At once. There 
 is the signal.' I fancy I hypnotized him. 
 He slid off the stool mechanically. I lost 
 no time taking his place. When he had 
 recovered an'd was threatening police I was 
 playing as even I had never played be- 
 fore. That is all." 
 
f is fortunate <&race. 207 
 
 Everybody laughed, the Duke more 
 heartily than anyone. Fletcher was one of 
 the few of life's gifts for which he was 
 consistently thankful. 
 
 "You shall come with us to-day," he 
 said, delighted with the sudden inspiration; 
 and Fletcher, who had intended to go 
 whether he was invited or not, graciously 
 accepted. 
 
 The breakfast party was informal and 
 gay. Toasts were given and the responses 
 clever. Even Mr. Forbes, who had no idea 
 of being a death's head at a feast, forced 
 himself into his best vein. 
 
 The Duke drank a good deal of wine 
 and said little. He was, on the whole, 
 well content. Mr. Forbes had handed over 
 two hundred thousand pounds with which 
 to repair Aire Castle, and settled the in- 
 come of eight hundred thousand pounds on 
 the young people, the principal to go to 
 
208 |Jig fortunate (8>race. 
 
 their children. The Duke reflected grate- 
 fully that he should have no cause to be 
 ashamed of his bride. She was not beauti- 
 ful, but even his relatives had approved of 
 her manners and style. He forgave her for 
 having bored him, for she had brought 
 him a certain peace of mind; and she 
 should have as many M.P.'s to talk po- 
 litical economy to as she (or they) listed. 
 He would talk to Fletcher, and others. 
 
 Mrs. Forbes had her especial toasts. 
 Even here, at this anti-climax dear to the 
 heart of a bride, she was the personage. 
 She looked regal and surpassing fair, for 
 her eyes were very soft; and she had 
 never been happier of speech. The Duke, 
 who admired her with what enthusiasm 
 was left in him, proposed a toast to 
 which the Ambassador himself responded. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 WHEN it was over and Mr. Forbes and 
 his wife had returned to the hotel, she 
 put her hands on his shoulders and looked 
 him in the eyes. 
 
 "Tell me," she said imperiously; "have 
 you really forgiven me ? I have almost 
 been sure at times that you had. I have 
 felt it. But you have not been quite' your 
 old dear self. I want to hear you say 
 again that you forgive me, and it is the 
 last time that I shall refer to the sub- 
 ject." 
 
 "Yes," he said, adjusting a lock that 
 had fallen over her ear, "I have forgiven 
 you, of course. We are to live the rest 
 
 of our lives together. I am not so unwise, 
 209 
 
210 |)is fortunate (B>race. 
 
 I hope, as to nurse offended pride and re- 
 sentment." 
 
 The colour left her face. She came 
 closer. 
 
 "Tell me!" she said, her voice vibrat- 
 ing. " Won't it ever be quite the same 
 again ? Is that what you mean ? " 
 
 He took her in his arms and laid his 
 cheek against hers. "Oh, I don't know," 
 he said, "I don't know." 
 
 THE END. 
 
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