Corky swallowed hard. "I'm not a rich man, if that's what you want to know. I'll be perfectly honest with you. I'm horribly poor." Her face brightened. "Now you are talking like a man. You must not forget I am from the West. We like frankness. And yet, in spite of your poverty, you really are received in the Smart Set? How do you manage it?" "Men are always in demand," admitted Corky, making a wretched error in diplomacy. He was thankful to see that it went unnoticed. "That is, men who are worth while." The Grand Duchess settled back in her chair, and softly patted her coiffure, choosing to stroke the curls immediately above her ears. "Well?" she invited, calmly, deliberately. "I'd like to marry you," said Corky. "Do you expect me to say 'yes'?" "I do." "Well, I'll let you know in the morning." "I prefer to have my answer now." "I've got to think it over." "Haven't you been thinking it over for some time?" he demanded impatiently. "I'll admit that I am in love with you," she said coyly. He shuffled his feet uneasily. "And you also will admit that I am in love with you, won't you?" "Are you?" "How can you ask?" "Well, prove it." "Won't I be proving it beyond all question if I marry you?" She sighed. "That isn't the way I was wooed years ago." "You forget that it was long before my time. Custom changes, my dear. I love you in the present, up-to-date fashion, not as they did in the unsettled West." She pondered. "How much of an allowance will you expect?" "Whatever you choose to settle upon me, I shall be happy to divide equally with you. That's the only way we can carry on our social campaign." "Well, I'll marry you, Corky." He blinked his eyes two or three times. "When?" he enquired, and absently looked at his watch. "Next Saturday," she said. "Good!" said he. When he got back to his hotel he found awaiting him there a letter from his brother Ripley. The news it brought caused him to thank his lucky stars that his fortune would be safe on Saturday. Jefferson and Ripley were making their fortunes in a middle-west city, following the ancient and honourable pursuit of the golf-ball as instructors in rival country clubs. They seemed to be a bit uncertain as to what they would follow during the winter, but both of them were thinking rather seriously of getting married. The news that caused Gorky's eyes to bulge came in the last casual paragraph of the letter. "Oh, by the way," wrote Rip, "the governor has just been married. I suppose you haven't heard of it. He had his appendix out six weeks ago and married his night nurse as soon as he was up. Well, so long. I'm giving a lesson at 10:30. Good luck." CHAPTER III THE TWINS