“I understand,” said Black-Tie gravely.  “What’s your price for the letters?”

“I’m not a cheap one,” said Miss De Ormond.  “But I had decided to make you a rate.  You both belong to a swell family.  Well, if I am on the stage nobody can say a word against me truthfully.  And the money is only a secondary consideration.  It isn’t the money I was after.  I—­I believed him—­and—­and I liked him.”

She cast a soft, entrancing glance at Blue-Tie from under her long eyelashes.

“And the price?” went on Black-Tie, inexorably.

“Ten thousand dollars,” said the lady, sweetly.

“Or—­”

“Or the fulfillment of the engagement to marry.”

“I think it is time,” interrupted Blue-Tie, “for me to be allowed to say a word or two.  You and I, cousin, belong to a family that has held its head pretty high.  You have been brought up in a section of the country very different from the one where our branch of the family lived.  Yet both of us are Carterets, even if some of our ways and theories differ.  You remember, it is a tradition of the family, that no Carteret ever failed in chivalry to a lady or failed to keep his word when it was given.”

Then Blue-Tie, with frank decision showing on his countenance, turned to Miss De Ormond.

“Olivia,” said he, “on what date will you marry me?”

Before she could answer, Black-Tie again interposed.

“It is a long journey,” said he, “from Plymouth rock to Norfolk Bay.  Between the two points we find the changes that nearly three centuries have brought.  In that time the old order has changed.  We no longer burn witches or torture slaves.  And to-day we neither spread our cloaks on the mud for ladies to walk over nor treat them to the ducking-stool.  It is the age of common sense, adjustment, and proportion.  All of us—­ladies, gentlemen, women, men, Northerners, Southerners, lords, caitiffs, actors, hardware-drummers, senators, hod-carriers, and politicians—­are coming to a better understanding.  Chivalry is one of our words that changes its meaning every day.  Family pride is a thing of many constructions—­it may show itself by maintaining a moth-eaten arrogance in a cobwebbed Colonial mansion or by the prompt paying of one’s debts.

“Now, I suppose you’ve had enough of my monologue.  I’ve learned something of business and a little of life; and I somehow believe, cousin, that our great-great-grandfathers, the original Carterets, would indorse my view of this matter.”

Black-Tie wheeled around to his desk, wrote in a check-book and tore out the check, the sharp rasp of the perforated leaf making the only sound in the room.  He laid the check within easy reach of Miss De Ormond’s hand.

“Business is business,” said he.  “We live in a business age.  There is my personal check for $10,000.  What do you say, Miss De Ormond—­will it he orange blossoms or cash?”

Miss De Ormond picked up the cheek carelessly, folded it indifferently, and stuffed it into her glove.