We accordingly adjourned to the room in question, where I produced a box of cigars, furnished the Duke with a light, and then, when we had seated ourselves, bade him commence his tale. I have often noticed that when a man who is anxious to be communicative is invited to begin his confidences, he finds that his stream of loquacity has dried up. It was so in Rotherhithe's case. He hummed and hawed, gazed very steadily at the ceiling for some seconds, and finally rose from his chair and began to pace the room. "You may remember," he began in the tone of a man addressing a public meeting, "that you and several other of my friends have continually endeavoured to impress upon me that it is my bounden duty, not only to myself, but to the name I bear, to marry and settle down. You can't grumble, therefore, if I take you at your word." "You couldn't do better," I said reflectively, examining the ash of my cigar as I spoke. "There is only one objection to the scheme so far as I can see." "Objection?" he cried, firing up as usual. "What sort of objection can there be to such a thing?" "It is just possible you may marry the wrong girl," I said quietly. "You must admit that _that_ would be a very decided one." "I am not likely to be such an idiot," he returned. "What is more, I am not about to marry a girl." I was becoming more and more convinced that my suspicions were correct. "In that case, the objection is removed," I said. "And now let me offer you my heartiest congratulations. I sincerely hope you may be happy." "But hang it all, you haven't asked me yet who the lady is! You might have done that." "If I wanted to waste time I might very well have done it," I replied. "There is no need, however, seeing that I already know who she is." "The deuce you do! Then who is she?" "The Countess de Venetza," I answered, shaking the ash of my cigar into the tray beside me. "I had my suspicions at lunch, and you afterwards confirmed them. I presume I am correct?" "Quite correct," he said in a tone of relief. "And, by Jove, don't you think I am a lucky man? Isn't she simply beautiful?" I offered no reply to the first question. On the second point, however, I was fortunate enough to be in a position to reassure him. Whatever else she might be, or might not be, the Countess was certainly very beautiful. "I shall have her painted by Collier," he continued, "or another of those artist fellows. She will be in black velvet, holding the folds of a curtain in her hand, and I'll hang it in the gallery at the old place, with all the other family pictures round her. There'll not be another there to equal her." In my own heart I wondered what those stately old ladies in frills and brocades would say to the new-comer. I did not mention the fact, however, to Rotherhithe. In his present condition he was ready to take offence at anything, at least where she was concerned. "And when will the wedding take place?" I enquired. "And where?"