"If you really loved me," she went on, "you would realize that I was your first interest—you would be ready to sacrifice these wretched whims of yours. It isn’t the money and it isn’t that I am ashamed of the suburbs—I would live in the Brixton Road—but I want to be the first thing in your life——" She faltered and made an heroic attempt to appear calm. The Duke was genuinely astonished at the outburst, at the defiance that trembled in her tone, at the proximity of tears. Nay, he was scared and showed it. "My dear girl," he began. "I’m _not_ your dear girl," she flamed, "I will not accept your horrid patronage. I will not allow you to treat quite serious matters—matters that affect my life—as subjects for your amusement." "My dearest——" he began but she stopped him. She removed the half circle of diamonds from her finger with deliberation. She said nothing because she was choking. She did not throw it at him, because she was a lady and had lived in Portland Place. She laid it on the table and fled. The Duke stood speechless and open mouthed; he did not behave like a hero. Did Alicia behave like a heroine? A study of contemporary fiction compels me to confess reluctantly that she did not. But this is a true story, and this remarkable scene I have described actually occurred. IV Olejoe the First, crowned and confident, was on his throne, and Tuppy was rehearsing him in view of an approaching function. "Draw near us," said Tuppy. "Draw near us," repeated Olejoe pompously. "What ho, varlets—a beaker of wine," coached Tuppy. "What ho, varmints——" "Varlets," corrected Tuppy. "What ho, var——" Just then the Duke entered, a tragic figure. Olejoe, proud of his accomplishments, spoke his lines. "Ho! noble dook," he bleated, "draw near——" "Come down out of that," said the Duke peevishly, "go into the kitchen." "If," said Olejoe taking off his crown politely, "I’ve said anything that’s given offence——" "Go to the devil," said the Duke. The king retired hurriedly. Not a word was spoken till he had departed, then: "I’m disengaged," said the Duke bitterly. "My dear old feller!" expostulated Tuppy. "I’m disengaged," repeated the Duke. He looked round for a seat. The throne invited him and he mounted its wooden steps. "I’m finished," he said and sat down on Olejoe’s abandoned crown. He sprung up with alacrity and flung the bauble away. "Steady with the crown jewels, old man," said Tuppy anxiously. "Hank, the Koh-i-noor’s knocked off, there it is under your chair. Monty, old owl, why this introduction of R. E. Morse, Esq?" In a few gloomy words the Duke made clear the situation. Fortunately for all concerned Tuppy’s knowledge of women and their ways was encyclopaedic.