"Eh?" "This is not the lady." "Not what lady?" "This is not the lady who called herself the Duchess of Datchet." "What the dickens do you mean? Really, Mr. Ruby and Mr. Golden, you seem to be leading me a pretty fine wild goose chase--a pretty fine wild goose chase! I know it will end in kicking--someone. You told me that the person to whom I had given that cheque was the person who had bestowed on you her patronage. This is the person to whom I gave that cheque." "This is not the person who gave that cheque to us." "Then--then who the devil did?" "That, your Grace, is the point--will this lady allow me to ask her one or two questions?" "Fire away--ask fifty!" The lady thus referred to interposed, "This gentleman may ask fifty or five hundred questions, but unless you tell me what all this is about I very much doubt if I shall answer one." "Let me manage it, Mr. Golden. Mrs. Mansfield, may I enquire what you did with that cheque for a thousand which I gave you? You jade! To tell me that Ruby and Golden were dunning you out of your life, when you never owed them a stiver! Tell me what you did with that cheque!" The Duke seemed at last to have said something which had reached the lady's understanding. She changed colour. She pressed her lips together. She looked at him with defiance in her eyes. A considerable pause ensued before she spoke. "I don't know why I should tell you. What does it matter to you what I did with it--you gave it me." "It does matter to me. As it happens, it matters also to you. If you will take my friendly advice, you will tell me what you did with that cheque." The look of defiance about the lady's lips and in her eyes increased. "I don't mind telling you. Why should I? It was my own. I gave it to Alfred." The Duke emitted an ejaculation--which smacked of profanity. "To Alfred? And, pray, who may Alfred be?" The lady's crest rose higher. "Alfred is--is the man to whom I am engaged to be married." The Duke of Datchet whistled. "And you got a cheque out of me for a thousand pounds to make a present of it to your intended? That beats everything; and pray to whom did Alfred give it?" "He gave it to no one. He paid it into the bank. He told me so himself." "Then I'm afraid that Alfred lied. Where is Alfred?" "He's--he's here." "Here? In this room? Where? Under the couch, or behind the screen?" "I mean that he's in this house. He's downstairs." "I won't ask how long he's been downstairs, but would it be too much to ask you to request Alfred to walk upstairs." The lady burst into a sudden tempest of tears. "I know you'll only laugh at me--I know you well enough to expect you to do that--but--I--I know I've not been a good woman, and--and I do love him--although--he's only--a--servant!" "A servant! Gertrude! Was that the man who opened the door?"