The Honourable John Ruffin thought that a man of tact and amiability could probably do it quite easily; but he did not say so. He thought that such a statement might be inhospitable. They went on with their tea in silence, the duke frowning over his luckless lot. Then the Honourable John Ruffin said in a distinctly patient and long-suffering tone: "Well, what is it you want me to do for you this time?" "I don't want you to do anything for me!" said the duke sharply. "Then what have you come for?" said the Honourable John Ruffin in the same distinctly patient and long-suffering tone. The duke hesitated; then he said: "Well, I want you to help me. I've got an idea." The Honourable John Ruffin looked skeptical, indeed, and he said a little wearily: "_You_ have? What is it?" The duke cleared his throat, assumed a portentous air, and said: "I tell you I'm getting devilish sick of this business--living by myself, without any family, and that sort of thing. And I've come to the conclusion that it's time Caroline and I were reconciled--" "High time," said the Honourable John Ruffin readily. "I'm fond of Caroline--in a way--" "Your own way--an obscure, secret way," said the Honourable John Ruffin in a cheerful tone. The duke scowled at him, but went on: "You don't know how contrary Caroline is--" "How should I? I'm not married to her," said the Honourable John Ruffin patiently. "Well, she is. And I've been thinking that if she found she was getting her way without interference, she wouldn't want it any longer." The keen grey eyes of the Honourable John Ruffin sparkled: "By Jove! This is subtlety! Marriage makes Machiavellis of us all. Continue, Solomon," he said, with more respect in his tone. "But I couldn't think of any way of letting her know she was getting it. It's no use writin' to those scoundrels of lawyers of hers and telling them. She'd only think it was a trap; or she'd think I'd caved in, and be so cockahoop we should never get any forrader. Then I got the idea. It looks a bit roundabout, but I believe it'll work, I do really. But it'll take a lot of working, and I'm wondering whether that little housekeeper of yours--what's her name--Mary Bride--will be up to it." "What on earth has Pollyooly got to do with it?" cried the Honourable John Ruffin. "A lot," said the duke firmly. "You know how like Marion she is. Why, even Mrs. Hutton, who'd been with Marion for years, couldn't tell them apart. Well, I want Mary Bride to be Marion." "The deuce you do!" cried the Honourable John Ruffin. "Yes," said the duke in the tone of a man who had quite made up his mind. "I want her to come and live at the court as Marion. I'm going to run her as my daughter, Lady Marion Ricksborough." "But what on earth for?" cried the Honourable John Ruffin in a tone of the liveliest bewilderment.