His reply was rather hesitating. "Yes, I happen to know something. But I feel sure Miss Le Breton would prefer to tell you herself. Ask her. While she was with Lady Henry there were reasons for silence--" "But, of course, I'll ask her," said his companion, eagerly, "if you suppose that I may. A more hungry curiosity was never raised in a human breast than in mine with regard to this dear lady. So charming, handsome, and well bred--and so forlorn! That's the paradox of it. The personality presupposes a _milieu_--else how produce it? And there is no _milieu_, save this little circle she has made for herself through Lady Henry.... Ah, and you think I may ask her? I will--that's flat--I will!" And the old man gleefully rubbed his hands, face and form full of the vivacity of his imperishable youth. "Choose your time and place," said Sir Wilfrid, hastily. "There are very sad and tragic circumstances--" Lord Lackington looked at him and nodded gayly, as much as to say, "You distrust me with the sex? Me, who have had the whip-hand of them since my cradle!" Suddenly the Duchess interrupted. "Sir Wilfrid, you have seen Lady Henry; which did she mind most--the coming-in or the coffee?" Bury returned, smiling, to the tea-table. "The coming-in would have been nothing if it had led quickly to the going-out. It was the coffee that ruined you." "I see," said the Duchess, pouting--"it meant that it was possible for us to enjoy ourselves without Lady Henry. That was the offence." "Precisely. It showed that you _were_ enjoying yourselves. Otherwise there would have been no lingering, and no coffee." "I never knew coffee so fatal before," sighed the Duchess. "And now"--it was evident that she shrank from the answer to her own question--"she is really irreconcilable?" "Absolutely. Let me beg you to take it for granted." "She won't see any of us--not me?" Sir Wilfrid hesitated. "Make the Duke your ambassador." The Duchess laughed, and flushed a little. "And Mr. Montresor?" "Ah," said Sir Wilfrid in another tone, "that's not to be lightly spoken of." "You don't mean--" "How many years has that lasted?" said Sir Wilfrid, meditatively. "Thirty, I think--if not more. It was Lady Henry who told him of his son's death, when his wife daren't do it." There was a silence. Montresor had lost his only son, a subaltern in the Lancers, in the action of Alumbagh, on the way to the relief of Lucknow. Then the Duchess broke out: "I know that you think in your heart of hearts that Julie has been in fault, and that we have all behaved abominably!" "My dear lady," said Sir Wilfrid, after a moment, "in Persia we believe in fate; I have brought the trick home." "Yes, yes, that's it!" exclaimed Lord Lackington--it! When Lady Henry wanted a companion--and fate brought her Miss Le Breton--" "Last night's coffee was already drunk," put in Sir Wilfrid. Meredith's voice, raised and a trifle harsh, made itself heard.