Part 36 (1/2)

”This farcical subst.i.tution of this wicked child, Mary Bride, for Marion,” said the d.u.c.h.ess, glaring at Pollyooly.

”But you're not going to do any subst.i.tuting. I won't have it,” said the duke firmly.

”Me? It's you! You've done it already!” cried the d.u.c.h.ess, with a sudden note of astonishment in her voice.

The duke shook his head, and with a smile of superior knowledge said firmly:

”It won't do, Caroline. It's no good your trying it on.”

The d.u.c.h.ess gasped: ”What do you mean? What _do_ you mean?” she cried; and her tone was now all astonishment.

The Honourable John Ruffin created a diversion by saying:

”As far as I can make out this is a private matter; and little pitchers have long ears. Come along, little pitchers.” And he was sweeping Pollyooly and Ronald off the lawn.

The d.u.c.h.ess glared at him, and stopped them for a moment with the words:

”Is this your doing, John?”

”Heavens, no! Osterley is the originator, and organiser, and perpetrator of the whole arrangement,” he cried over his shoulder in a tone which carried conviction; and he vanished with the children.

The d.u.c.h.ess turned and glared again at the duke, as if she could not believe her eyes; she looked almost as if she saw him for the first time.

”Sit down and have some tea. You must be wanting it,” said the duke firmly; and he began to pour it out.

The d.u.c.h.ess sat down, with a somewhat helpless air, still staring at him. Matters seemed to be going differently from what she had expected. Her fine brown eyes looked very big.

”You did this all yourself?” she said, in a somewhat breathless voice.

”Did what? Two lumps, isn't it?” said the duke, putting two lumps into the cup and handing it to her.

”Deliberately subst.i.tuted a strange child for your own,” said the d.u.c.h.ess solemnly.

”Oh, that,” said the duke carelessly. ”That's all right. You needn't worry about that. I've quite taken to Mary Bride. She's so--so companionable--and--and as clever as they make 'em, and as pretty as a picture. She makes a ripping Lady Marion Ricksborough. Why, when she comes into a room, or on to a lawn, it's beginning to make as much sensation as if it were yourself. I was awfully lucky to get hold of her.” His tone had grown truly enthusiastic.

The d.u.c.h.ess ground her teeth and cried:

”And do you think I'm going to stand it?”

”Stand it? I thought you'd like it,” said the duke in a perplexed tone. ”Of course I'm not going to bother you about Marion any more; you can keep her. And it's all so deucedly comfortable; you've got the Marion you want, and I've got the Marion I want. And so we're both happy.” And he smiled amiably.

”Happy! Happy when a strange child is usurping the place of my child?”

cried the d.u.c.h.ess furiously.

”Oh, that's all right. Marion's got _you_,” said the duke. ”Besides, I'm not going to go all my life without any family. It wouldn't be fair; and you've no right to expect it. I say, how jolly you're looking!”

”Jolly!” said the d.u.c.h.ess thickly.

”Well, pretty then. And your figure is better than ever--perfectly ripping,” said the duke with enthusiasm.

”You can leave me out of it!” cried the d.u.c.h.ess in a tone of the last exasperation. ”And if you think I'm going to stand this, I'm not!”