The Duchess, herself the superlative of beauty, wealth, and position, was married to the highest noble in the Three Kingdoms. Those who talked about such matters said that their progeny were exactly like their parents,--a peculiarity of the aristocratic and wealthy. They all looked like brothers and sisters, except their parents, who, such was their purity of blood, the perfection of their manners, and the opulence of their condition, might have been taken for their own children's elder son and daughter. The daughters, with one exception, were all married to the highest nobles in the land. That exception was the Lady Coriander, who, there being no vacancy above a marquis and a rental of L1,000,000, waited. Gathered around the refined and sacred circle of their breakfast-table, with their glittering coronets, which, in filial respect to their father's Tory instincts and their mother's Ritualistic tastes, they always wore on their regal brows, the effect was dazzling as it was refined. It was this peculiarity and their strong family resemblance which led their brother-in-law, the good-humored St. Addlegourd, to say that, "'Pon my soul, you know, the whole precious mob looked like a ghastly pack of court cards, you know." St. Addlegourd was a radical. Having a rent-roll of L15,000,000, and belonging to one of the oldest families in Britain, he could afford to be. "Mamma, I've just dropped a pearl," said the Lady Coriander, bending over the Persian hearthrug. "From your lips, sweet friend," said Lothaw, who came of age and entered the room at the same moment. "No, from my work. It was a very valuable pearl, mamma; papa gave Isaacs and Sons L50,000 for the two." "Ah, indeed," said the Duchess, languidly rising; "let us go to luncheon." "But your Grace," interposed Lothaw, who was still quite young, and had dropped on all-fours on the carpet in search of the missing gem, "consider the value--" "Dear friend," interposed the Duchess, with infinite tact, gently lifting him by the tails of his dress-coat, "I am waiting for your arm." CHAPTER II. Lothaw was immensely rich. The possessor of seventeen castles, fifteen villas, nine shooting-boxes, and seven town houses, he had other estates of which he had not even heard. Everybody at Plusham played croquet, and none badly. Next to their purity of blood and great wealth, the family were famous for this accomplishment. Yet Lothaw soon tired of the game, and after seriously damaging his aristocratically large foot in an attempt to "tight croquet" the Lady Aniseed's ball, he limped away to join the Duchess. "I'm going to the hennery," she said. "Let me go with you, I dearly love fowls--broiled," he added, thoughtfully. "The Duke gave Lady Montairy some large Cochins the other day," continued the Duchess, changing the subject with delicate tact. "Lady Montairy, Quite contrairy, How do your cochins grow?" sang Lothaw gayly.