"At this stage of the proceedings? That were somewhat tactless, my dear. I must abduct her, but I must be more careful. Once I have her, I can propitiate Papa."
"Tracy, 'tis the maddest scheme ever I heard! What will the others say?"
"Do you really suppose I care?"
"No, I suppose not. Oh, will not Bob be furious, though!"
"It were almost worth while-just for the sake of foiling him. He would so like to succeed me. But I really do not think he must." His elbow was on his knee, his chin in his hand, and a peculiar smile on his lips. "Can you imagine him stepping into my ducal shoes, Lavinia?"
"Very easily!" she cried. "Oh, yes, yes, Tracy! Marry the girl!"
"If she will."
"Why, 'tis not like you to underrate your persuasive powers!"
His Grace's thin nostrils wrinkled up in a curious grimace.
"I believe one cannot force a girl to the altar," he said.
"Unless she is a fool, she'll have you."
"Her parent would be influenced by my dukedom, but she, no. Not even if she knew of it."
"Does she not know?"
"Certainly not. I am Mr. Everard."
"How wise of you, Tracy! So you've nought to fear?"
"Fear?" He snapped his fingers. "I?"
The heavy curtain swung noiselessly aside. Richard Carstares stood in the opening.
Tracy turned his head and scrutinised him languidly. Then he put up his hand and removed his mask.
"Is it possible the husband scented an intrigue? It seems I am doomed to disappoint to-night."
Lavinia, smarting from her morning's wrongs, laughed savagely.
"More probable he mistook me for someone else!" she snapped.
Richard bowed, his hand on the curtain. He had shown no surprise at seeing the Duke.
"Far more probable, my dear. I thought you Lady Charlwood! Pray give me leave." He was gone on the word.
Tracy replaced his mask, chuckling.
"Honest Dick grows cold, eh? But what a snub, Lavinia!"
Her little hand clenched.
"Oh, how dare he! How dare he insult me so?"
"My dear sister, in all justice to him, you must admit the boot was rather on the other leg."
"Oh, I know-I know! But he is so provoking!-so jealous!-so unreasonable!"
"Jealous? And why?"
With an impatient twitch at her petticoat she made answer, not looking at him.
"Oh, I do not know! Nor he! Take me back to the ball-room."
"Certainly, my dear." He rose and led her out. "I shall do myself the honour of waiting on you-to-morrow."
"Yes? How delightful 'twill be! Come to dine, Tracy! Richard is promised to the Fortescues."
"In that case, I have much pleasure in accepting your invitation. . . . In heaven's name, who is this?"