“I have come,” he replied, still holding her hand. He had no choice left in the matter. She did not withdraw her hand after she had given it to him. It would scarcely have done for him to cast it from him. “You are sure that Sir Godfrey has not yet returned?” “I am sure of it,” said she. “Would I be here with you alone if he had returned?” “No, no; of course not,” said the Duke. “But would I not come far if only to press this little hand?” His experience of women had taught him that a little flattery is never out of place with them. He supposed it was out of sheer nervousness that Mrs. Barry had failed to withdraw her hand. She did not withdraw it even now, however. It was only when they had walked side by side half way across the room that she withdrew her hand. She saw that a large picture on an easel was between them and the distant _portiere_. “You have come--you have trusted me,” she murmured, with her eyes cast down. He looked at her. He began to fear that she was faltering. She needed encouragement to make her revelation to him. “I have trusted you, dear one; ah, you know not to what extent I would trust you. I would go to the ends of the earth to hear what you have to tell me.” “That is what I wish,” she cried. “Could we not meet at some distant spot where all that my heart contains might be yours? Ah, let us fly thither without delay! Delay may make havoc of our future.” “Pray, calm yourself,” said the Duke. He perceived that his companion was of an hysterical type. She would need to be treated with great tact before she could be brought to communicate anything that she knew. “Ah, 't is easy for a soldier to be calm,” she cried. “'T is not so easy for a poor woman who is by nature trustful and yet by experience distrustful.” “You may trust me, my sweet creature,” he said. “May I? May I?” she whispered, looking into his face. “Ah, no, no; leave me--leave me alone to die here! Mine was the fault--mine alone.” She had put her hands before her face and gone excitedly halfway down the apartment. “You shall not die!” he cried, following her. “Just heaven, child, am I nobody? Is my protection worth nothing, that you should be afraid?” “Your protection?” She had removed her hands from her face. “What! you will let me be under your protection?” “I swear to you.” “Ah, then I will trust you--forever--for ever,” cried the actress, flinging herself into the arms of the astonished Duke and laying her head on his shoulder. He was much more astonished when a voice rang through the studio: “Wretch! Infamous wretches both!” “Oh, Lud!” cried Mrs. Barry, forsaking her resting place and standing a yard or two apart. “Oh, Lud, who is the plain little woman that has been eavesdropping? I vow, Duke, she was not invited to our meeting.” “Infamous creature! I am the Duchess of Marlborough!”