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A romantic story of Regency
London by popular author ...
GEORGETTE HEYER
It amused him, entering his house so unex-
pectedly early in the evening, to know
that he had disconcerted Criddon, his
porter. He suspected Criddon of having
slipped out to dally with a serving-maid at the
top of some area-steps.
The rogue was out of breath, as though,
having perceived his master sauntering up
the flagway in the light of the oil street-lamps,
he had scurried back into the house more
swiftly than befitted a man of his bulk.
As he took the silk-lined cloak, the curly
brimmed beaver, and the tall cane, he wore a
faint air of injury. No doubt he felt ill-used
because his master, leaving the ball hours be-
fore his carriage had been ordered for him.
had chosen to walk home instead of looking
in at Watier's, according to his more usual
custom.
He told Criddon he might go to bed, and
strolled to the side-table, where a letter, de-
livered during the evening, awaited him. As
he broke the wafer and spread open the sheet,
his butler came up from the nether regions,
but he waved him away, as irritated by his
presence as he would have been angered by his
absence.
He threw the letter aside and opened the
dcor into the dining-room. The room was in
darkness, a circumstance which almost caused
him to summon back the butler. It was his
pleasure that lights should burn in every room
which he might conceivably wish to enter
in his great house, and well did his servants
know it.
But he did not call to Radstock, for his
nostrils had caught the acrid smell of candles
newly blown out, and he was indefinably
aware that he was not alone in the room.
Some of the boredom left his face; a turn-up
with a housebreaker might relieve the
monotony of his existence, and would cer-
tainly surprise the housebreaker, who would
no doubt consider a seeming-dandy in satin
breeches and a long-tailed coat easy game.
He stepped back into the hall and picked
up the heavy chandelier from the side-table
there. Carrying this into the dining-room,
he stood for a moment on the threshold, look-
ing keenly round. The flames of half a dozen
candles flickered and showed him only the
furniture and the wavering shadows it threw.
He glanced towards the windows and it
seemed to him that one of the brocade cur-
tains bulged slightly. He set the chandelier
down, trod silently to the window, and flung
the curtains back.
As he did so, he sprang out of range and
brought his hands up in two purposeful fists.
They dropped to his sides. No housebreaker
met his astonished gaze, but a girl shrinking
back against the window, the hood of her
cloak fallen away from a tangle of silken curls,
her frightened face, in which two dark eyes
dilated, upturned to his.
For a moment he wondered if Criddon had
hidden his sweetheart in the dining room;
then his critical glance informed him that the
girl's cloak was of velvet and her gown of
sprigged muslin, the demure but expensive
raiment of the debutante.
His astonishment grew. He was so eligible
a bachelor that he was accustomed to being
pursued and could recognise and evade every
snare set in his path. But this seemed to go
beyond all bounds.
Anger came into his eyes; he thought he
must have bern mistaken in his assessment of
the girl's quality, and that a fair Cyprian had
invaded his house.
Then she spoke, and her words confirmed
him in his first impression. "Oh, I beg your
pardon! P-pray, forgive me, sir!" she said
in a pretty, conscience-stricken voice.
Anger gave way to amusement. "What,
ma'am, may I ask, are you doing in my
house?" he demanded.
She hung her head. "Indeed, you must
think it most odd in me!"
"I do."
"The door was open, so-so I ran in,"
she explained. "You see, there-there was
a man following me!"
"If you must walk through the streets of
London at this hour, I should hope your
footman was following you!""
"Oh, no! No one knows I am not in my
bed! My mission is most secret! And I never
meant to walk, but the hackney carried me
to the wrong house—at least, I fear I gave
the coachman the wrong direction, and he
had driven away before I was made aware
of my mistake. The servant told me that it
was only a step, so I thought I might walk,
only there was an odious man——! I ran
as fast as I could into this street, and—and
your door stood open."
She blushed. "Indeed, I meant only to
hide in the hall until that creature was gone,
but then your porter came in and I was
obliged to run into this room, because how
could I explain? When I told that other
servant where I wished to go, he—he——"
She broke off, lifting her hand to a burning
cheek. "And then you came in, so I slipped
behind the curtain."
It occurred to him, while she offered this
explanation of her presence in his house,
that, although she was agitated, she was not
at all shy and seemed not to be much afraid of
him. He said: "You intrigue me greatly.
Where, in fact, do you wish to go?"
"I wish—I have a particular desire—to go
to Lord Rotherham's house," she replied.
The amusement left his face. He looked
frowningly at her, a hint of contempt in his
rather hard eyes. He said in a dry tone: "No
doubt to call upon his lordship?"
She put up her chin. "If you will be so
obliging as to direct me to Lord Rotherham's
house, which I believe to be in this street,
sir, I need no longer trespass upon vour
hospitality!"
"It is the last house in London to which
I would direct you. I will rather escort you
bark to vour own house, wherever that may
be."
"No, no; I must see Lord Rotherham!" she
cried.
"He is not a proper person for you to
visit, my good girl. Moreover, it is unlikely
that you would find him at home at this
hour."
"Then I must wait for him," she declared.
"I am persuaded he will not be so very late
tonight, for he is going to fight a duel in
the morning!"
He stared at her, his eyes narrowed. "In-
deed?"
"Yes!—with my brother," she said, a catch
in her voice. "I must—I must prevent him!"
"Is it possible," he demanded, "that you
imagine you can persuade Rotherham to draw
back from an engagement? You do not know
him! Who sent you on this fantastic errand?
Who can have exposed you to such a risk?"
"Oh, no one, no one! I discovered what
Charlie meant to do by the luckiest accident,
and surely Lord Rotherham cannot be so very
bad? I know he is said to be heartless, and
excessively dangerous, but he cannot be such
a monster as to shoot poor Charlie when I
have explained to him how young Charlie is,
and how it would utterly prostrate Mama,
who is an invalid, and suffers from the most
shocking palpitations!"
He moved away from the window and
pulled a chair out from the table. "Come and
sit down!" he said curtly.
"But, sir——"
"Do as I bid you!"
She came reluctantly to the chair and sat
down of the edge of it, looking up at him in
a little trepidation.
He drew his snuff-box from his pocket and
flicked it open. "You, I apprehend, are Miss
Saltwood," he stated.
"Well, I am Dorothea Saltwood," she
amended. "My sister Augusta is Miss Salt-
none Help

"Oh, I beg your pardon,"
said the girl in a con-
science - stricken voice.

"P-pray forgive me."

none Help

ILLUSTRATED
BY BOOTHROYD

wood, because no one has offered for her yet.
And that is why I am not yet out, though
I am turned nineteen! But how did you know

my name is Saltwood?"

He raised a pinch of snuff to one nostril.
I was present, ma'am, when your brother

insulted Rotherham."

She seemed grieved. "At that horrid gam-

ing-hell?"

"On the contrary! At an exclusive club,
to which few of us, I fancy, know how Lord
Saltwood gained admission."

She flushed. "He prevailed upon that stupid

creature Torryburn to take him there. I dare
he should not have done so, but Lord
Rotherham need not have given him such

a set-down! You will own it was the unkindest
thing!"

"Certainly," he said. "Pray, do not think
that I have the smallest desire to defend
Rotherham! But, in justice to his lordship, I
must tell you that your brother offered him
an insupportable insult.

"His lordship has many faults—indeed, I

sometimes think I dislike him more than any-
one of my acquaintance! But I assure you

that in all matters of play he is scrupulous.
Forgive me if I venture to suggest, ma'am,
that your brother will be the better for a sharp
lesson, to teach him, in future, not to accuse
a gentleman of using loaded dice!"

Indeed, I know it was very bad, but if he
meets Lord Rotherham he won't have a

future!"

"This is stark tragedy with a vengeance!"
he replied, amused. "Rotherham will scarcely

To page 8

Continuing . . . . The Duel

proceed to such extremes as
you dread, my dear child!"

"They say he never misses!"
she uttered, her cheeks
blanched.

"Then he will hit Saltwood

precisely where he meant to."

"They must not, and they
shall not meet!" she said
earnestly. "I am persuaded that
if I can only tell Lord Rother-

ham how it is with Charlie, he
cannot be so cruel as to persist
in this affair!"

"You would be better advised
to prevail upon your brother to
apologise for his conduct."

"Yes," she agreed mourn-
fully. "That is what Bernard
said, but the thing is that Lord
Rotherham is so deadly a shot
that Charlie would never, never

do that, because everyone would

think he was afraid to meet
him!"

"And who, may I ask, is

Bernard ?"

"Mr. Wadworth. We have
known him forever and he is
one of Charlie's seconds. It
was he who told me about it.
I made him do so. I promised
I would not disclose to Charlie
that he had breathed a word
to me, so what can I do but
throw myself upon Lord Roth-
erham's mercy?"

"Lord Rotherham, as you are
aware, has no mercy. You
would, moreover, be doing Mr.
Wadworth a vast disservice if
you were to betray to anyone
the impropriety of his conduct
in speaking one word to you on
this subject."

"Oh, dear, I would not in-
jure him for the world, poor
Bernard! But I have told you
already, sir!"

"Your confidence is quite
safe in my keeping."

She smiled engagingly up
at him. "Indeed, I know it
must be! You are so very
kind! But I am determined to
see Lord Rotherham."

"And I am determined that
you shall return to your home.
Rotherham's is no house for
you to visit in this style. Good
heavens, if it should become
known that you had done so——!"
She got up. clasping her

hands. "Yes, but it is desper-
ate! If anything were to hap-
pen to Charlie it would kill
Mama! I assure you it is of no
consequence what becomes of
me! Augusta says I am bound
to ruin myself because I have
no notion how I should go on,
so I might as well ruin myself
now as later, don't you think?"

"I do not!" he replied,
laughing. "Oh, don't look so
much distressed, you absurd
child! Will you trust me to
see that no harm comes to
your tiresome brother?"

She stared at him, sudden
hope in her eyes. "You. sir?
Oh, will you see Lord Rother-
ham and explain to him that
it was only that poor Charlie

had been so sadly indulged be-
cause my father died when he
was a little boy and Mama
would not let him go to school
or permit anyone to cross him.
and he has only just come to
town and he does not know
how to guard his temper or——"

He interrupted this tumbled
speech, possessing himself of
one agitated little hand and
kissing it lightly. "Rest assured
I will not allow Lord Rother-
ham to hurt poor Charlie at
all!"

"Will he listen to you ?" she

from page 7

asked doubtfully. "Augusta's
particular friend, Miss Stan-
sted, says he is a very proud,
disagreeable man and cares
nothing for anyone's opinion."

"Very true, but I have it in
my power to compel him to do
what I wish. You may safely
trust in me."

She heaved a relieved sigh
and again the enchanting smile
trembled on her lips. "Oh, yes!
I do, sir! It is the oddest thing
for, to own the truth, I was a
little afraid when you pulled
back the curtain. You looked
at me in such a way! But that
was quite my own fault, and I

saw in a trice that there was
not the smallest need for me
to be afraid. You are so very
kind I don't know how I may
thank you."

"Forget that I looked at you
in such a way and I shall be
satisfied. I am going to take
you home now. I think you
said that no one knew you had
left the house. Have you the
means to enter it again with-
out being seen by the ser-
vants?"

She nodded, a gleam of mis-
chief in her big eyes. The
amusement in his deepened.
"Abominable girl! Lady Salt
wood has my sincere sym-
pathy!"

"I know I have behaved
shockingly," she said contritely.
"But what was I to do? And
you must own that it has come
about for the best, sir! For I
have saved Charlie, and I know
you will never tell anyone what
a scrape I have been in. I
hope—I hope you don't truth-
fully think me abominable?"

"If I were to tell you what
I truthfully think, I should be
abominable. Come! I must

convey you home, my little

one."

Never did a young gentleman
embarking on his first affair of
honor receive less encourage-
ment from his seconds than
Lord Saltwood received from
Sir Francis Upchurch and
Mr. Wadworth. Sir Francis,
being inarticulate, did little
more than shake his head, but
Mr. Wadworth, presuming
upon an acquaintance with his
principal which dated from
the cradle, did not hesitate to
speak his mind. "Made a
dashed cake of yourself!" he

said.

"Worse!" said Sir Francis,
contributing his mite.

"Much worse!" corroborated
Mr. Wadworth. "Devilish bad
taste, Charlie! You were foxed,
of course."

"I wasn't. At least, not
very much."

"Drunk as a wheelbarrow.
I don't say you showed it, but
you must have been!"

"Stands to reason!" said Sir
Francis.

"No right to bully Torry-
burn into taking you to the
Corinthian Club in the first

place. Above your touch, my
boy! Told you so when you
asked me to take you. No right
to have stayed there after
Rotherham gave you that set

down."

Lord Saltwood ground his
teeth. "He need not have said
that!"

"No, I daresay he need not.
Got a nasty tongue. But that
don't signify. You'd no right

to accuse him of using loaded
dice!"

Sir Francis shuddered and
closed his eyes for an anguished

moment.

"Ought to have begged his
pardon then and there," pur-
sued Mr. Wadworth relent-

lessly. "Instead of that, dashed
well forced a quarrel on him

"If he hadn't told a waiter—
a waiter!—to show me out—!"

"Ought to have called for
the porter," agreed Sir Fran-

cis. He then perceived that
this amiable response had failed

to please his fiery young fríend
and begged pardon.

A powerful thought assailed

him. He turned his eyes to-

wards Mr. Wadworth and said
suddenly: "You know what,
Bernie? He shouldn't have

accepted Charlie's challenge.
Must know he ain't been on
the town above six months!"

"The point is he did accept
it," said Mr. Wadworth. "But
it ain't too late. Charlie
dashed well ought to apolo-
gise!"

"I will not!" said Lord Salt-
wood tensely.

"You were in the wrong,"
insisted Mr. Wadworth.

"I know it, and I mean to
fire in the air. That will show
that I acknowledge my fault
but was not afraid to meet
Rotherham!"

This noble utterance caused
Sir Francis to drop with a

clatter the cane whose amber
knob he had been meditatively
sucking, and Mr. Wadworth to
stare at his principal as though
he feared for his reason.

"Fire in the air?" he gasped.

"Against Rotherham? You
must be queer in your attic!
Why, man, you'd be cold meat!
Now, you listen to me, Charlie!
If you won't beg the fellow's
pardon, you'll come up the in-
stant you see the handkerchief
drop and shoot to kill or I'm
dashed if I'll have anything

more to do with it!"

"Awkward business if he
killed him," objected Sir Fran-
cis. "Might have to leave the
country."

"He won't kill him," said
Mr. Wadworth shortly.

He said no more, but it was
plain to Saltwood that his
seconds thought poorly of his
chances of his being able to
hit his opponent at a range of
twenty-five yards. He was by
no means a contemptible shot,
but he suspected that it might

be easier to hit a small wafer
at Manton's Galleries than a

large man at Paddington

Green.

Mr. Wadworth called for him

in a tilbury very early in the
morning. He did not find it
necessary to throw stones up at

his lordship's window, for his
lordship had not slept well and
was already dressed.

He stole downstairs and let
himself out of the house, bid-
ding Mr. Wadworth good-
morning with very creditable
composure. Mr. Wadworth
nodded and cast a knowledge-
able eye over him. "No bright
buttons on your coat?" he

asked.

The question did nothing to
allay the slightly sick feeling
at the pit of Saltwood's
stomach. Mr. Wadworth fol-
lowed it up with a reminder to
him to turn up his collar and

To page 10

Continuing . . . . The Duel

to be careful to present the
narrowest possible target to his
adversary.

Lord Saltwood, climbing
into the tilbury, answered
with spurious cheerfulness: "I
must suppose it can make little
difference to such a shot as they
say Rotherham is."

"Oh, well—! No sense in
taking needless risks," said Mr.
Wadworth awkwardly.

After that, conversation be-
came desultory. They were the
first to arrive on the ground,
but they were soon joined by
Sir Francis and a man in a
sober-hued coat, who chatted
about the weather. Saltwood
realised that this insensate per-
son must be the doctor, gritted
his teeth, and hoped that

Rotherham would not be late.

It seemed to him that he had
strayed into nightmare. He felt
cold, sick, and ashamed; and
it said much for the underlying
steel in his spoilt and wayward

nature that it did not enter his
head that he might even now
escape from a terrifying en-
counter by apologising to
Rotherham for conduct which
he knew to have been dis-
graceful.

Rotherham arrived even as
the church clocks were striking
the hour. He was driving him-
self in his sporting curricle,
one of his friends seated beside
him, the other following him
in a high-perch phaeton. He
appeared to be quite nonchal-
ant, and it was obvious that he
had dressed with all his usual

care.

The points of his shirt stood
up stiffly above an intricate
neckcloth; his dark locks were
arranged with casual nicety;
there was not a speck upon the
gleaming black leather of his
Hessian boots. He sprang
down from the curricle and cast
his drab driving-coat into it.
The seconds met and conferred
and presently led their princi-
pals to their positions and gave
into their hands the long
barrelled duelling pistols,
primed and cocked.

Across what seemed to be
an immeasurable stretch of
turf Saltwood stared at Roth-
erham. That cold, handsome
face might have been carved in
stone; it looked merciless,
faintly mocking.

The doctor turned his back;
Saltwood drew in his breath
and grasped his pistol firmly.
One of Rotherham's seconds
was holding the handkerchief
high in the air. It fell and
Saltwood jerked up his arm

and fired.

He had been so sure that
Rotherham would hit him that
it seemed to him that he must

from page 8

have been hit. He recalled
having been told that the bullet
had a numbing effect, and cast
an instinctive glance down his
person. But there did not seem
to be any blood and he was
certainly still sanding on his

feet.

Then he heard someone
ejaculate: "Good heavens!
Rotherham!" and, looking in
bewilderment across the grass,
he saw that Mr. Mayfield was
beside Rotherham, an arm flung
round him, and that the doctor
was hurrying towards them.

Then Mr. Wad worth removed

his own pistol from his hand
and said in a stupefied voice:

"He missed!"

Young Lord Saltwood, reali-

sing that he had hit the finest
pistol-shot in town and was
himself untouched, was for a
moment in danger of collapsing
in a swoon. Recovering, he
pushed Mr. Wadworth away
and strode impetuously up to
the group gathered round
Rotherham. He reached it in
time to hear that detested
voice say: "The cub shoots bet-
ter than I bargained for! Oh.
go to the devil. Ned! It's
nothing—a graze!"

"My lord!" uttered Salt-

wood. "I wish to offer you
my apology for—"

"Not now, not now!" inter-
rupted the doctor testily.

Saltwood found himself
waved aside. He tried once
more to present Rotherham
with an apology, and was then
led firmly away by his seconds.

"Most extraordinary thing I
ever saw!" Mr. Wadworth
told Dorothea, when dragged
by her into the small saloon
and bidden disclose the whole
to her. "Mind, now! Not a
word to Charlie! Rotherham
missed!"

Her eyes widened. "Fired in

the air?"

"No, no! Couldn't expect
him to do that! Dash it. Dolly,
when a man does that he's
owning he was at fault! Don't
mind telling you I felt as sick
as a horse. He was looking
devilish grim. Queer smile on
his face, too. I didn't like it
above half. I'll swear he took
careful aim. Fired a good
second before Charlie did.
Couldn't have missed him by
more than a hairsbreadth!
Charlie got him in the shoulder;
don't think it's serious. Thing
is, shouldn't be surprised if it's
done Charlie good. Tried to
beg Rotherham's pardon on
the ground, and he's called
once in Mount Street since
then. Not admitted: butler said
his lordship was not receiving
visitors. Given Charlie a
fright: he'll be more the thing
now. But don't you breathe a
word, Dolly!"

She assured him she would
not mention the matter. An
attempt to discover from him
who, besides Lord Rotherham,
resided in Mount Street could
not have been said to have ad-
vanced the object she had in

mind.

Mr. Wadworth was able to
recite the names of several
persons living in that street;
but when asked to identify a
gentleman who apparently re-
sembled a demi-god rather than
an ordinary mortal, he said,
without hesitation, that he had
never beheld anyone remotely
corresponding to Miss Salt-
wood's description.

He began then to show signs
of suspicion, so Dorothea was
obliged to abandon her in-
quiries and to cast round in her
mind for some other means of
discovering the name of her
brother's unknown preserver.

None presented itself; nor,
when she walked down Mount
Street with her maid, was she
able to recognise the house in
which she had taken refuge.
A wistful fancy that the un-
known gentleman might per-
haps write to tell her that he
had kept his word was never
very strong, and by the end of
the week had vanished entirely.
She could only hope that she
would one day meet him and
be able to thank him for his
kind offices.

In the meantime, she found I
herself to be sadly out of

spirits, and behaved with such
listless propriety that even
Augusta, who had frequently
expressed the wish that some-
thing should occur to tame her
sister's wildness, asked her if

she were feeling well. Lady

Saltwood feared that she was
going into a decline, and her-

self succumbed immediately to

a severe nervous spasm.

Before any such extreme
measures for the restoration to
health of the younger Miss
Saltwood as bringing her out
that very season had been more

than fleetingly contemplated
by her mama and angrily

vetoed by her sister, her dis-
order was happily arrested.

Eight days after Saltwood's
duel, on an afternoon in June,
the butler sought out Dorothea,
who was reading aloud to her
afflicted parent, and contrived

To page 59

Continuing . . . . The Duel

to get her out of the drawing
room without arousing any
suspicion in Lady Saltwood's
mind that she was wanted by
anyone more dangerous than
the dressmaker.

But once outside the

drawing-room, Porlock placed
a sealed billet in Dorothea's
hand, saying with the air of
a conspirator that the gentle-
man was in the Red Saloon.

The billet was quite short
and it was written in the third
person. "One who had the
pleasure of rendering a trifling

service to Miss Dorothea Salt-
wood begs the honor of a few
words with her."

"Oh!" gasped Dorothea, all
her listlessness vanished. "Por-
lock, pray do not tell Mama
or my sister! Pray do not!"

"Certainly not, miss!" he re-
sponded, with a readiness not
wholly due to the very hand-
some sum already bestowed
upon him downstairs. He
watched his young mistress
speed down the stairs and

thought with pleasure that
when Miss Augusta discovered
what kind of an out-and-outer
was courting her sister she
would go off in an apoplexy.

The gentleman in the Red
Saloon, to his experienced eye,
was bang-up Corinthian, a
Nonpareil, a very Tulip of
Fashion.

Dorothea, coming impetu-
ously into the saloon, exclaimed
on the threshold: "Oh, I am so
very glad to see you, sir! I
have wished so much to thank
you and I have not known
how to do so for I never asked
you your name! I don't know
how I came to be such a
goose!"

He came towards her and
took her outstretched hand in

his left one, bowing over it.
She perceived that he was
quite as handsome as she had
remembered and that his right
arm lay in a sling. She said
in quick concern: "How comes
this about? Have you broke
your arm, sir?"

"No, no!" he replied, retain-
ing her hand. "A slight acci-
dent to my shoulder merely!
lt is of no consequence. I
trust that all went well that
aa and that your absence
has not been discovered?"

"No, and I have not men-

tioned it to anyone!" she
assured him. "I am so very
much obliged to you! I can-
not imagine how you contrived
to prevail upon that man not
to hit Charlie! Bernard told
me that Charlie hit him, and
I must say I am sorry, because
it was quite my fault, and
although he is so odious I did
not wish him to be hurt pre-
cisely!"

''To own the truth, he had
little expectation of being
hurt," he said, with a wry
smile. He released her hand,
and seemed to hesitate. "Lord
Rotherham, Miss Saltwood, does
not wish to appear odious in
your eyes, believe me!"

"Is he a friend of yours?" she
asked. "Pray forgive me! I
am sure he cannot be so very
bad if that is so!"

"I fear he has been quite my
worst friend," he said ruefully.
"Forgive me, my child! I am

Lord Rotherham!"

She stood quite still, staring
at him, at first pale, and then
with a flush in her cheeks and
tears sparkling in her eyes.

"You are Lord Rotherham?"
she repeated. "And I said such
things about you, and you let
me, and were so very kind, and
allowed yourself to be wounded
—Oh, I am sure you must be
the best person in the world!"

"I am certainly not that,
though I hope I am not the
worst. Will you forgive mc for
having deceived you?"

She put out her hand, and
again he took it, and held it.
"How can you talk so ? I am
quite ashamed! I wonder you
did not turn me out of doors!
How good you are! How truly

noble!"

"Ah, how you can talk so?"
he said quickly. "Do not! I
do not think I had ever, before
that evening, wished to please
anyone but myself. You came
to me— enchanting and abom-
inable child that you are! —
and I wanted more than any-
thing in life to please you. I
am neither good nor noble—
though I am not as black as I
was painted to you. I assure
you, I had never the least in-
tention of wounding your
brother mortally."

from page 10

"Oh, no! Had I known it
was you I should never have
thought that!"

He raised her hand to his
lips. The slight fingers seemed
to tremble, and then to clasp
his. He looked up, but before
he could speak Lord Saltwood
walked into the room.

Lord Saltwood stopped dead
on the threshold, his eyes start-
ing from their sockets. He stared
in a dazed way, opened his
mouth, shut it again, and swal-
lowed convulsively.

"How do you do?" said
Rotherham, with cool civility.
"You must forgive me for hav-
ing been unable to receive you
when you called at my house
the other day."

"I came—I wished—I wrote
you a letter!" stammered Salt-
wood, acutely uncomfortable.

"Certainly you did, and I
have come to acknowledge it. I
am much obliged to you, and
beg you will think no more
of the incident."

"C-came to see me?" gasped

Saltwood.

"Yes, for I understand you to
be the head of your family, and
I have a request to make of
you. I trust that our late un-
fortunate contretemps may not
have made the granting of it
wholly repugnant to you."

"No, no! I mean—anything
in my power, of course. I shall
be very happy——! If you
would care to step into the
bookroom, my lord——?"

"Thank you." Rotherham
turned, and smiled down into
Dorothea's anxious eyes. "I
must take my leave of you now,
but I trust Lady Saltwood will
permit me to call on her to-

morrow."

"Yes, indeed, I am persuaded
—that is, I do hope she will!"
said Dorothea naively.

There was a laugh in his
eye, but he bowed formally, and
went out with Saltwood, leaving
her beset by a great many
agitating emotions, foremost
among which was a dread that
Lady Saltwood would, in the
failing state of her health, feel
herself to be unequal to the
strain of receiving his lordship.

When, presently, Saltwood
went up to the drawing-room,
looking as though he had sus-
tained a severe shock, Dorothea
was seized by a conviction that
her escapade had been dis-
closed to him, and she fled to
the sanctuary of her bedcham-
ber, and indulged in a hearty

bout of tears.

From this abyss of woe she
was jerked by the unmistak-
able sounds of Augusta in strong
hysterics. Hastily drying her
cheeks, she ran downstairs to

render whatever assistance
might be needed, and to sup-
port her parent through this

ordeal.

To her amazement, she found
Lady Saltwood, whom she had
left languishing on the sofa,
not only upon her feet, but
looking remarkably well. To
her still greater amazement, the
invalid folded her in the fond-
est of embraces, and said:
"Dearest, dearest child! I de-
clare I don't know if I am on
my head or my heels! Rother-

ham! A Countess!

"You sly little puss, never
to have told me that you had
met him! And not even out

yet! You must be presented

at once: that I am determined

upon! He is coming to visit

me tomorrow. Thank heaven
you are just Augusta's size! You
must wear the pomona silk dress
Celestine has just made for her.
I knew how it would be, the
instant I brought you out! I
was never so happy in my life!"

Quite bewildered, Dorothea
said: "Presented? Wear Augus-
ta's new dress? Mama, why?"

"My innocent treasure!" ex-
claimed Lady Saltwood. "Tell
me, my love, for you must know
I am scarcely acquainted with
him, do you—do you like Lord

Rotherham ?"

"Oh, Mama!" said Dorothea
impulsively. "He is exactly like
Sir Charles Grandison and Lord
Orville, only far, far better!"

"Dearest Dorothea!" sighed
her ladyship ecstatically. "Char-
lie, do not stand there staring!
Go and throw a jug of water
over Augusta this instant! This
is not the moment for hysterics!"

(Copyright)

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