"So I have heard," I said. "I have been accustomed to be run after all my life," she continued, "so it does not amount to anything, a man making love to me. But he is beautiful, isn't he?--Lord Luffton, I mean." "Yes, though he has the reputation of great fickleness. The Duke would probably make a better husband," I said. I felt I owed it to Lady Tilchester to do something towards advancing the cause. "Oh, as for that, a man always makes a good enough husband if you have the control of the dollars, and poppa would see to that," said Miss Trumpet. This seemed so true I had nothing to say. "Now, I will tell you," she continued, examining her nails, which shone as bright as glass. "I have got a kind of soft feeling for that Baron, but I would like to be an English duchess. Now, which would you take, if you were me?" "Oh, I could not possibly advise you," I said. "You must weigh the advantages, and your level head will be sure to choose for the best." "The position of an English duchess is splendid, though, isn't it? An Italian duke came over last fall, and poppa thought of him for about a day. But there is the bother of a foreign language, and all their silly ways to learn, so I told poppa I would have an English one or marry an American. It does seem a pity I can't have both the Baron and the Duke!" and she laughed with girlish mirth. I thought of my conversation the night before, and wondered. * * * * * That evening the Duke, also, made me confidences. He was immensely taken with Miss Trumpet, he allowed, and could almost look upon the matter as a pleasure instead of a duty now. "If you had shown the slightest sign that you would ever care for me, I should not have thought of her, though," he said. "You will be sorry, one day, that you are as cold as ice." "Why should a person be accused of having no musical sense because one particular tune does not cause one rhapsodies?" I asked. "The one idea of a man seems to be, if a woman does not adore him personally, it is because she is as cold as ice. Surely that is illogical." He looked at me very straightly for a moment. "I believe you do care for some one," he said. "I shall watch and see." "Very well," I laughed. None of the people I have met since my marriage have seemed to think it possible that I should care for Augustus, or that my wedding-ring should be the slightest bar to my feelings or their advances. "You are a dangerously attractive woman, you know--one's idea of what a lady ought to look like. And you move with a grace one never sees now. And your eyes--your eyes are the eyes of the Sphinx. I fancy, if I could make you care, I would forget all the world. I am glad you are going to-morrow." "I understood you to say you were greatly attracted by Miss Trumpet," I said, demurely. And so the evening passed.