“When Ethel comes to me she will be guarded as sacredly as a girl can be.”

Sir John smiled kindly at his betrothed.

“I have made but a few protestations of what I feel for her; perhaps I am more reserved than I should be, but I am no longer a boy.  I doubt whether I ever was very romantic, even in my younger days, but I think that she and I understand each other, and if we don’t tiff and ‘make it up,’ if we have been engaged three months and have never had a quarrel, that does not mean that my affection is not most sincere and deep.”

“I should hope we like each other too well to quarrel,” said Lady Ethel haughtily.

Like!  After all, was it love on either side?  Sir John asked himself.

“My dear Sir John,” broke in the Duchess pompously.  “A few words from such a man as yourself impress me more profoundly than rhapsodies from another.  Ethel, just look out of the window and see if the carriage is waiting.  We are going to take the Lancaster girls to the Academy, and Payne has driven round to fetch them while we had our consultation with you.”

“Yes, mamma, it is there.”

“I will follow you in a minute, Ethel; say good-bye to John—­,” and when the door had closed upon her daughter, she began hurriedly: 

“It is hardly the time and place perhaps, but you will pardon that.  I—­really, it is very awkward.  Can you not help me, Sir John?  The weeks are slipping by, and I should, I confess, like to make my arrangements for leaving home, but until I know definitely what yours are—.”

“Mine?”

“Yes; yours and Ethel’s.”

A light broke in upon Sir John’s somewhat obtuse mind.  He had no desire to expedite matters, but then he was not the principal person to be consulted, and it certainly was not for him to raise any objection, so he acted immediately on the hint given him.

“My dear Duchess, what can I say?  The matter rests entirely in your hands.  Let it be when you please.  In another month I shall be comparatively free, and we can visit Switzerland if Ethel wishes.”

The Duchess smiled.  “That you must arrange with Ethel herself, and perhaps you had better broach the subject yourself to her.  Girls are apt to be a little curious on these points.”

“Then I will ask her to fix the day for our marriage.”  He bowed with old-fashioned gallantry over the pearl-grey suede, held out in farewell, and the Duchess rustled away with Soames, the deferential, in close attendance.

Soames did not like the idea of a mistress, but these “accidents” he was well aware, would happen in the best regulated families, so he was now bent on making friends with the Mammon of Unrighteousness in the shape of the Duchess of Huddersfield and the bride elect.

Left alone, Sir John stood upright, his hand on the back of his chair and his brows tightly drawn together.

Well, why not?  What possible excuse could he make to his own heart for the delay?