His words were selected with judgment and grace, and showed the command of an uncommon vocabulary. She had thought Gerard Strobridge's sentences were well-chosen, and cultivated, but they would sound quite modern and almost colloquial, she felt, compared with the highly-polished flow of language which poured forth from this clear-cut mouth. The whole mien of the man expressed intense pride and dignity, and a perfect unself-consciousness. He gesticulated very little and kept one hand with the thumb resting above a button of his fastened coat, so that she could see his hand plainly, and its shape, which was in keeping with the rest of his appearance, and on his little finger was a great graven emerald, or some green stone in a ring, which caught a ray of light and sparkled for a second. How was it that so noticeable a personage had never been to Berkeley Square or Blissington? He was of Her Ladyship's political convictions, too, and must be of importance to occupy so prominent a place. And presently she began to take in the words he was saying, and gathered from a sentence which remarked upon his "long absence from your Ladyship's House" that he must have been for some time out of England. Then she grew fascinated with the speech itself, it was so witty and filled with an exquisite sarcasm. Such must have been the speeches of Chesterfield, she thought, in this same House of Lords more than a century and a half ago. How old could he be? Fifty--forty-five--forty? It was impossible to say. Suddenly she was conscious of a deep enthralled interest affecting her, and she turned and whispered to Mr. Strobridge at her side: "Who is that man speaking now--I would so much like to know?" "The Duke of Mordryn--is he not a type? The last real Tory left in this age." And then Katherine remembered that letters addressed to this name, and written in Lady Garribardine's own hand, had often gone with the rest to be posted, always to addresses abroad, ever since she had been in her service. And often, too, she recalled, the Duke had been spoken of as being here or there, and gradually on his way home, but nothing about him had particularly interested or struck her, except the name Mordryn--it was a perfect name! She began piecing together what she knew about him. At Liv and Dev's she had been obliged to know a good deal about all Dukes; their sub-titles, son's courtesy titles, and family names. This string came back to her mechanically--"Duke of Mordryn, Marquis of Valfreyne, Earl of Rievaulx" and a number of Baronies, while the family appellation was Monluce, and the chief place of several residences Valfreyne in Dorsetshire. She remembered too that the Duchess had died less than two years ago.