I admitted that the prospect was dazzling all around, but asked about the Duke's debts, which I had heard ran up close to a million, not counting the bull pups, and would eat a large hole in Pearl's pocket-book. Mrs. Radigan laughed. Trust her for that, she said. The Bumpschuses had settled Nothingham's debts for ten cents on the dollar, and she was sure that $500,000 would mend Nocastle's roofs and satisfy his creditors. She appealed to my sense of honor. Was it right for me to expect Pearl to marry a plain American real-estate agent when she could have at her call one of the greatest men in England? It was selfish of me, I admitted. Then, weary of it all, in rather hopeless fashion, I said that we had best leave it all to Pearl. Mrs. Radigan was triumphant. She seemed to think the last obstacle to a noble brother-in-law removed. She said that I was a dear, unselfish boy, and all that. She could now go on with her plans, and would have the wedding right after Lent at St. Edward's. Just then Pearl came in, all aglow from a forty-mile spin in her car with Marian Speechless, and when she had emerged from her furs she sank into a chair and called for tea and cigarettes. I gave her a light, and when she was smoking contentedly, Mrs. Radigan said: "It's all settled." Then she explained that I was willing to retire in favor of his Grace. Pearl just smiled and smoked--that inscrutable smile of hers. "Well?" said Mrs. Radigan sharply. "Well?" said Pearl, blowing rings. "The engagement's off," said Mrs. Radigan. "Which one?" said Pearl smiling. "The present one," said Mrs. Radigan sharply. "Why?" said Pearl. "Because I think you should marry the Duke," said Mrs. Radigan. "Indeed?" said Pearl. "You would be happier with a duke," said Mrs. Radigan firmly. "You think so?" said Pearl. "There is no woman living that would not jump at a duke," said Mrs. Radigan. "You will be the envy of every girl in town." Pearl smiled and smoked--smoked inscrutably. "Well?" said Mrs. Radigan. "We will walk down Madison Avenue," said Pearl, rising, and turning her lustrous eyes to me. Her conduct has puzzled me greatly. It seemed like prolonging the torture before the end. For when it comes to a choice between a duke and a real-estate agent, there can be but one answer. It only remains for his Grace to make up that feeble mind of his, and my day-dream will be over. Now I am enjoying it as best I can. As we strolled down Madison that afternoon, it seemed to me that it would likely be our last appearance together on the avenue of sentiment. We were silent. My mood was too despairing for silly prattle, and Pearl seldom speaks, and then in hardly more than monosyllables. Once I thought I would end it all there, and so let my tongue run away with me for a moment. I think I referred to the duke in ungentlemanly language. Her answer was a smile more inscrutable than ever.