'My Dearest Friend,

'You forgive me, but can I forgive myself? I am plunged in overwhelming grief. Shall I come on? Your mad but devoted friend,

'Lucius Grafton.

'The Duke of St. James.'

They met the same day. After a long consultation, it was settled that Peac.o.c.k Piggott should be entrusted, in confidence, with the secret of the affair: merely a drunken squabble, 'growing out' of the Bird of Paradise. Wine, jealousy, an artful woman, and headstrong youth will account for anything; they accounted for the present affair. The story was believed, because the world were always puzzled at Lady Aphrodite being the cause. The Baronet proceeded with prompt.i.tude to make the version pa.s.s current: he indicted 'The Universe' and 'The New World;'

he prosecuted the caricaturists; and was seen everywhere with his wife.

'The Universe' and 'The New World' revenged themselves on the Signora; and then she indicted them. They could not now even libel an opera singer with impunity; where was the boasted liberty of the press?

In the meantime the young Duke, once more easy in his mind, wonderfully recovered; and on the eighth day after the Ball of Beauty he returned to the Pavilion, which had now resumed its usual calm character, for fresh air and soothing quiet.

CHAPTER XV.

_Arundel's Warning_

IN THE morning of the young Duke's departure for Twickenham, as Miss Dacre and Lady Caroline St. Maurice were sitting together at the house of the former, and moralising over the last night's ball, Mr. Arundel Dacre was announced.

'You have just arrived in time to offer your congratulations, Arundel, on an agreeable event,' said Miss Dacre. 'Lord St. Maurice is about to lead to the hymeneal altar----'

'Lady Sophy Wrekin; I know it.'

'How extremely diplomatic! The _attache_ in your very air. I thought, of course, I was to surprise you; but future amba.s.sadors have such extraordinary sources of information.'

'Mine is a simple one. The d.u.c.h.ess, imagining, I suppose, that my attentions were directed to the wrong lady, warned me some weeks past.

However, my congratulations shall be duly paid. Lady Caroline St.

Maurice, allow me to express----'

'All that you ought to feel,' said Miss Dacre. 'But men at the present day pride themselves on insensibility.'

'Do you think I am insensible, Lady Caroline?' asked Arundel.

'I must protest against unfair questions,' said her Ladyship.

'But it is not unfair. You are a person who have now seen me more than once, and therefore, according to May, you ought to have a perfect knowledge of my character. Moreover, you do not share the prejudices of my family. I ask you, then, do you think I am so heartless as May would insinuate?'

'Does she insinuate so much?'

'Does she not call me insensible, because I am not in raptures that your brother is about to marry a young lady, who, for aught she knows, may be the object of my secret adoration?'

'Arundel, you are perverse,' said Miss Dacre.

'No, May; I am logical.'

'I have always heard that logic is much worse than wilfulness,' said Lady Caroline.

'But Arundel always was both,' said Miss Dacre. 'He is not only unreasonable, but he will always prove that he is right. Here is your purse, sir!' she added with a smile, presenting him with the result of her week's labour.

'This is the way she always bribes me, Lady Caroline. Do you approve of this corruption?'

'I must confess, I have a slight though secret kindness for a little bribery. Mamma is now on her way to Mortimer's, on a corrupt emba.s.sy.

The _nouvelle mariee_, you know, must be reconciled to her change of lot by quite a new set of playthings. I can give you no idea of the necklace that our magnificent cousin, in spite of his wound, has sent Sophy.'

'But then, such a cousin!' said Miss Dacre. 'A young Duke, like the young lady in the fairy tale, should scarcely ever speak without producing brilliants.'

'Sophy is highly sensible of the attention. As she amusingly observed, except himself marrying her, he could scarcely do more. I hear the carriage. Adieu, love! Good morning, Mr. Dacre.'

'Allow me to see you to your carriage. I am to dine at Fitz-pompey House to-day, I believe.'

Arundel Dacre returned to his cousin, and, seating himself at the table, took up a book, and began reading it the wrong side upwards; then he threw down a ball of silk, then he cracked a knitting-needle, and then with a husky sort of voice and a half blush, and altogether an air of infinite confusion, he said, 'This has been an odd affair, May, of the Duke of St. James and Sir Lucius Grafton?'

'A very distressing affair, Arundel.'

'How singular that I should have been his second, May?'

'Could he have found anyone more fit for that office, Arundel?'

'I think he might. I must say this: that, had I known at the time the cause of the fray, I should have refused to accompany him.'

She was silent, and he resumed:

'An opera singer, at the best! Sir Lucius Grafton showed more discrimination. Peac.o.c.k Piggott was just the character for his place, and I think my princ.i.p.al, too, might have found a more congenial spirit.

What do you think, May?'

'Really, Arundel, this is a subject of which I know nothing.'

'Indeed! Well, it is odd, May; but do you know I have a queer suspicion that you know more about it than anybody else.'

'I! Arundel?' she exclaimed, with marked confusion.

'Yes, you, May,' he repeated with firmness, and looked her in the face with a glance which would read her soul. 'Ay! I am sure you do.'

'Who says so?'

'Oh! do not fear that you have been betrayed. No one says it; but I know it. We future amba.s.sadors, you know, have such extraordinary sources of information.'

'You jest, Arundel, on a grave subject.'

'Grave! yes, it is grave, May Dacre. It is grave that there should be secrets between us; it is grave that our house should have been insulted; it is grave that you, of all others, should have been outraged; but oh! it is much more grave, it is bitter, that any other arm than this should have avenged the wrong.' He rose from his chair, he paced the room in agitation, and gnashed his teeth with a vindictive expression that he tried not to suppress.

'O! my cousin, my dear, dear cousin! spare me!' She hid her face in her hands, yet she continued speaking in a broken voice: 'I did it for the best. It was to suppress strife, to prevent bloodshed. I knew your temper, and I feared for your life; yet I told my father; I told him all: and it was by his advice that I have maintained throughout the silence which I, perhaps too hastily, at first adopted.'