Part 26 (1/2)

Suddenly Lady Constance, who had cracked an almond, held out the kernel to the duke.

”Look,” she said with almost childish glee, ”this nut has two kernels.

Now, let us have a phillipine. Will you, duke?”

”Of course I will, Lady Constance,” he answered. ”We must arrange all about it. I forget the rules. Is it not the first person who says 'phillipine' to-morrow morning who wins?”

”That's it,” she answered. ”Now, what are you going to give me, or what am I going to give you?”

”Whatever you like,” said the duke.

”Well, you choose first,” said Lady Constance.

”I don't quite know what I want,” said the duke.

The bishop laughed softly. Things were going excellently well.

”Surely, my dear boy,” he said, ”even you--fortunate as you are--cannot say that there is nothing in the world that you don't want?”

”I know!” the duke answered suddenly, with a quick flush. ”There is one thing which I want very much!”

”Well, then, if it is not too expensive,” Lady Constance said, ”and if you win, of course, I will give it to you. But what is it?”

”I don't think I will tell you now,” the duke replied. ”We will wait and see the issues. But what do you want, Lady Constance?”

”Well, I don't know, either,” she said. ”Oh, yes, I do. I saw Barrett's the other day--the place in Piccadilly, you know--there were some delightful little ivory pigs. I should like a pig to add to my collection of charms. I meant to have bought one then, only I was rather in a hurry, and besides, your chain charms ought always to be given to you if they are to bring you good luck.”

”Very well, then, that is settled,” said the duke.

”I don't think it is at all fair, all the same,” she said, ”not to tell me what your prize is to be if you win.”

”My resolution upon that point is inflexible, Lady Constance,” he answered.

Then there was a curious momentary silence. n.o.body looked at the other.

Lord Hayle was thinking of the bridge-party to which he was going. The bishop had realised what the duke meant, and was wondering if his daughter had realised it also. The duke wondered if, carried away by the moment, he had been a little too explicit. Lady Constance? What did Lady Constance wonder?

The bishop saved the situation, if, indeed, it needed salvage.

”Well,” he said, ”shall we go into the drawing-room? Gerald, I know, wants to get away, and I and Paddington will be allowed to smoke, as there's n.o.body else there. Connie won't mind, I know.”

”Oh, I sha'n't mind a bit,” Lady Constance answered. ”Father's disgraceful when we're alone. He smokes everywhere. But the butler has invented a wonderful way of removing all traces of smoke in the air by the next morning. He makes one of the maids put down a couple of great copper bowls full of water, and they seem to absorb it all. Then, we will go.”

Laughing and chatting together, they pa.s.sed out of the dining-room and mounted to the drawing-rooms on the first floor.

Lord Camborne and his guest sat by one of the fire-places and played a game of chess. Lady Constance was at the Erard, some distance away. Her touch of the piano was perfect, and she played brilliant little trifles, s.n.a.t.c.hes from Grieg or Chopin, and once she played a Tarantelle of Miguel Arteaga--a flas.h.i.+ng, scarlet thing, instinct with the heat and spirit of the South.

The bishop won the game of chess. He was, as a matter of fact, though the duke did not know it, one of the finest amateurs of the game then living.

The duke was at his best an indifferent performer.

A minute or two after the game was over Mr. Westinghouse, the chaplain, came into the drawing-room. He had been dining in his own rooms that night, as he was very busy upon some special correspondence for the bishop. It was then that Lord Camborne saw his chance.