It was not until afterwards that he learned from his mother, who rallied him playfully on his fascination, that he had been entertaining the daughter of the great Vanbrugh. It was chance, therefore--one of those chances that every now and then take over the control of our lives and change them for us--that had caused Trent to meet Hero Vanbrugh on this easy footing instead of in the cankered atmosphere of fashion. But the ice, once broken, could not be re-formed, and the relations between Hero and her host at Colonsay House had developed into intimacy. Up to this time the Duke’s mental attitude had been that of a man who views a tempting object in a shop-window, and stands hesitating, purse in hand, wishful to buy, but unable to make up his mind to give the price. Now he suddenly became aware that another possible purchaser was coming up, and that if he wanted to make sure of the bargain, he must lose no more time. An embarrassing silence was broken by Hero, who undertook to divert the thoughts of the Home Secretary by asking: “What do they think in the Home Office of the Legitimist Guild?” CHAPTER VII THE DECADENTS IT was some time after dinner when the Duke of Trent, faithful to his promise to their mother, drove up to the gate of Alistair’s house in Chelsea. On the way James considered what line it would be best for him to take. He reckoned on finding the prodigal in a despondent mood, perhaps half estranged from the temptress already, under the stress of poverty and disgrace. If so, it should prove an easy task to appeal to him by the picture of the welcome awaiting him in Colonsay House. Alistair could not but be touched by his brother’s generosity--and James meant to be generous. He meant to say--to say a little condescendingly, perhaps, but kindly: “I take your debts on myself. Your name is cleared. Your mother and I only ask you not to forget that you have a home to come to when you like.” By the time he had reached the house the Duke had half persuaded himself that he should be able to bring the repentant one away with him that very night. The house was surrounded on all sides by a high brick wall, pierced at the entrance by a tall narrow gateway, the gate of Georgian ironwork. Ordering his coachman to wait, the Minister strode up a covered pathway that led to the door of the house, and knocked. As he did so he was aware that the lower part of the house was brilliantly lit up. He caught a murmur of voices coming through the windows of a room which overlooked the front garden, and even heard what sounded like applause. Before he could frame any explanation to himself of these sights and sounds the door was opened by a smart lad in a rather untidy page’s livery, who stared at the visitor with the vulgar impertinence of a servant who does not respect his employers. At the same instant a loud burst of laughter came from the interior of the building.