"Duke?" frowned Sir Harry, "I didn’t see anything about dukes. Let me see the letter again, my love." "Duke," muttered Sir Harry, "I can’t see any word that looks like ’duke’—ah, here it is, I suppose, I thought it was ’dude’; really Laura writes an abominable hand. H’m," he said, "I see she suggests that Hal should spend a week or so with them—how does that strike you, my boy?" It struck Hal as an unusually brilliant idea. He had views about Alicia, inclinations that were held in check by his father’s frequent pronouncements on the subject of mesalliances. So it came about that Hal went on a visit to his aunt and cousin. "He’s probably one of these insignificant continental noblemen," said his father at parting, "you must put a stop to his nonsense. I have a young man in my eye who would suit Alicia, a rising young jobber who does business for me. If the duke or whatever he is persists in his attentions, a word from you will bring him to his senses. "I shall punch the beggar’s head," promised Hal, and Sir Harry smiled indulgently. "If, on the other hand," he said thoughtfully, "you find he is the genuine article the thing might be arranged amicably—you might make friends with him and bring him along to Hydeholm. He is either no good at all or too good for Alicia—it’s about time Winnie was off my hands." Miss Winnie Tanneur was aged about twenty-eight and looked every year of it. VII "66 has a visitor," reported Hank. The Duke took his feet from the mantel-shelf and reached for his tobacco. A spell of silence had fallen upon him that morning, that had been broken only by a brief encounter with the butcher on the quality of a leg of mutton, supplied on the day previous. "Has she?" he said absently. "I said ’66,’ which is of neither sex," said Hank. "This fellow——" "Oh, it’s a man, is it?" said the Duke—brightening up; "what sort of a man, who is he?" Hank touched a bell and the grave man servant appeared. "Who is the visitor next door?" demanded the Duke. "A Captain Tanneur, m’lord; militia; and the son of Sir Harry Tanneur who is related to No. 66." "You’ve been gossiping with the servants," accused the Duke. "Yes, m’lord," said the man without hesitation. "Quite right," said the duke approvingly. When the servant was gone he asked— "Do you ever pine for the wilds, Hank, the limitless spread of the prairies, and the twinkling stars at night?" "Come off, Pegasus," begged Hank. "The fierce floods of white sunlight and the quivering skyline ahead," mused the Duke dreamily, "the innocent days and the dreamless nights." "No fierce floods in mine," said Hank decisively; "me for the flesh pots of Egypt, the sinful life." "Do you ever——" "Take a walk—_you_," said Hank rudely. "Say your love-sick piece to the shop windows. What are you going to do about Captain Tanneur—the bold militia man?"