And so they went up town, and Claudius watched everything with interest, and occasionally made a remark.  Barker was obliged to go on, and he put Claudius out on the platform at the station nearest his hotel, and which was in fact at the same cross-street.  As Claudius ascended the steps he was overtaken by the Duke, who was breathless with running.

“I—­am afraid—­it is too late,” he panted; “come along,” and he seized Claudius by the arm and dragged him to the corner of Fifth Avenue, before he could ask any questions.

“What is the matter?” asked the Doctor, looking about.

“He is gone,” said the Duke, who had recovered his speech, “I knew he would, but I thought there was time.  I was with a friend of mine, and I had just left him when I saw you, and as I have asked him to dinner I wanted to introduce you first.  But he is always in such a hurry.  Nowhere to be seen.  Probably down town by this time.”  They turned back and went in.  The Duke asked for the ladies.  The Countess and her companion had gone to drive in the park, but Lady Victoria was upstairs.

“Vick, I am going to have a man to dinner—­of course we will all dine together the first night ashore—­a man you have heard me speak of; you will like him amazingly.”

“Who is he?”

“He is the uncle of the whole human race.”

“Including the peerage?” laughed Lady Victoria.

“Peerage?  I should think so.  The whole of Debrett and the Almanach de
Gotha.  Nobility and gentry, the Emperor of China and the North American
Indians.”

“That will suit Miss Skeat.  She is always talking about the North American Indians.  I think I know who it is.”

“Of course you do, and now he is coming.”  There was a pause.  “Vick, may I smoke?”

“Oh yes, if you like.”  His Grace lit a cigarette.

“Vick, I am afraid you have had a dreadfully stupid time of it on this trip.  I am so sorry.  Those people turned out rather differently from what I had expected.”  The Duke was fond of his sister, though she was much younger than he, and he began to reflect that she had been poorly provided for, as he had engaged Barker most of their time.

“Not at all.  You know I am so fond of the sea and the open air, and I have enjoyed it all so much.  Besides—­”

“It is awfully good of you to say so, my dear, but I don’t believe a word of it.  ’Besides’—­you were going to say something.”

“Was I?  Oh yes.  Besides, you could not have had another man, you know, because it would have spoiled the table.”

“No, but I was so selfish about Barker, because he can play cards, and Claudius would not, or could not.”

“I am not sorry for that, exactly,” said Lady Victoria.  “You remember, we talked about him once.  I do not like Mr. Barker very much.”

“Oh, he is no end of a good fellow in his way,” said her brother.  “Have you—­a—­any reason for not liking him, Vick?”