"Don't be nasty, now that you are up in the world. I'll be quite different with Hilda, poor soul, though I must be natural with you. It is a compliment, if you only look at it in the right way, which of course, with your priggishness, you won't. And you needn't use that cheap title of mine, just to remind me how nearly I've missed being called by a more expensive one. I suppose Joan will be your duchess. Do you think she will fill the position!" "Admirably." "How curt! There is still a lot of the parson about you, Lionel." "And ever will be." "World without end, I suppose. Hysteria again, Duke, so don't look shocked. Give me details." The young man looked again at this wonderful being. For many months he had known the impossibility of altering Leah's view of things seen and unseen. The most sacred subjects seemed to appeal to her sense of humour, and no solemnity could banish the ever-ready smile from her lips. In reality he was unjust in thinking thus. Lady Jim, considering her losses and the ironic position she occupied, only kept herself from shrieking out the truth by giving vent to ill-timed frivolities. Her greatest relief would have been to tell this prig that he was a supplanter. Hysteria, said she, was the excuse for unnatural merriment, and truly hysteria it was, although she could not swear to it. Unaware of all this turmoil in the mind of the mourner in motley, Lionel positively thought that troubles had rendered her distraught, and so passed over her incongruities. "The yacht was on her homeward way," he explained, in the eminently laboured fashion of a landsman when dealing with ships. "During that storm a week ago she went down off Brest--Cape Brest." "Struck on a reef?" "No; she sprang a leak, and the boats were stove in, so no one could be saved in that way. By clinging to a spar the steward reached shore. He alone survived"; and Lionel covered his face to indulge in a silent prayer for those who had perished. Lady Jim was more practical according to her lights. "Why did you only hear this week-old news yesterday?" "The steward, the survivor, was ill with fever: also he was wounded in the head,--against the rock, I suppose. The yacht was seen to founder far off shore, but no one at Brest knew her name. When the steward came to himself the other day, he explained, and the news was telegraphed to the Duke's lawyers, who sent for me. I expect we shall not learn full details till this steward arrives. He is now on his way to London." "And the Duke--Frith?" "Their bodies are in the depths with the ship and those who formed her crew. Peace be to their souls!" "You needn't worry about that," said Leah, tartly, and paying her tribute to the dead. "I am quite sure that the Duke and Frith have gone to that heaven you're always talking about. It is awful," she added pensively, and with a shudder; "but talking only makes it worse. I'll go and see Hilda, poor dear."