LITMIR.BIZ

CHAPTER III

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LUPIN'S WAY

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      Sonia, in a sudden revulsion of feeling, in a reaction from her fears, slipped back and sat down at the tea-table, panting quickly, struggling to keep back the tears of relief. She did not see the Duke gallop up the slope, dismount, and hand over his horse to the groom who came running to him. There was still a mist in her eyes to blur his figure as he came through the window.

      "If it's for me, plenty of tea, very little cream, and three lumps of sugar," he cried in a gay, ringing voice, and pulled out his watch. "Five to the minute—that's all right." And he bent down, took Germaine's hand, and kissed it with an air of gallant devotion.

      If he had indeed just fought a duel, there were no signs of it in his bearing. His air, his voice, were entirely careless. He was a man whose whole thought at the moment was fixed on his tea and his punctuality.

      He drew a chair near the tea-table for Germaine; sat down himself; and Sonia handed him a cup of tea with so shaky a hand that the spoon clinked in the saucer.

      "You've been fighting a duel?" said Germaine.

      "What! You've heard already?" said the Duke in some surprise.

      "I've heard," said Germaine. "Why did you fight it?"

      "You're not wounded, your Grace?" said Sonia anxiously.

      "Not a scratch," said the Duke, smiling at her.

      "Will you be so good as to get on with those wedding-cards, Sonia," said Germaine sharply; and Sonia went back to the writing-table.

      Turning to the Duke, Germaine said, "Did you fight on my account?"

      "Would you be pleased to know that I had fought on your account?" said the Duke; and there was a faint mocking light in his eyes, far too faint for the self-satisfied Germaine to perceive.

      "Yes. But it isn't true. You've been fighting about some woman," said Germaine petulantly.

      "If I had been fighting about a woman, it could only be you," said the Duke.

      "Yes, that is so. Of course. It could hardly be about Sonia, or my maid," said Germaine. "But what was the reason of the duel?"

      "Oh, the reason of it was entirely childish," said the Duke. "I was in a bad temper; and De Relzieres said something that annoyed me."

      "Then it wasn't about me; and if it wasn't about me, it wasn't really worth while fighting," said Germaine in a tone of acute disappointment.

      The mocking light deepened a little in the Duke's eyes.

      "Yes. But if I had been killed, everybody would have said, 'The Duke of Charmerace has been killed in a duel about Mademoiselle Gournay-Martin.' That would have sounded very fine indeed," said the Duke; and a touch of mockery had crept into his voice.

      "Now, don't begin trying to annoy me again," said Germaine pettishly.

      "The last thing I should dream of, my dear girl," said the Duke, smiling.

      "And De Relzieres? Is he wounded?" said Germaine.

      "Poor dear De Relzieres: he won't be out of bed for the next six months," said the Duke; and he laughed lightly and gaily.

      "Good gracious!" cried Germaine.

      "It will do poor dear De Relzieres a world of good. He has a touch of enteritis; and for enteritis there is nothing like rest," said the Duke.

      Sonia was not getting on very quickly with the wedding-cards. Germaine was sitting with her back to her; and over her shoulder Sonia could watch the face of the Duke—an extraordinarily mobile face, changing with every passing mood. Sometimes his eyes met hers; and hers fell before them. But as soon as they turned away from her she was watching him again, almost greedily, as if she could not see enough of his face in which strength of will and purpose was mingled with a faint, ironic scepticism, and tempered by a fine air of race.

      He finished his tea; then he took a morocco case from his pocket, and said to Germaine, "It must be quite three days since I gave you anything."

      He opened the case, disclosed a pearl pendant, and handed it to her.

      "Oh, how nice!" she cried, taking it.

      She took it from the case, saying that it was a beauty. She showed it to Sonia; then she put it on and stood before a mirror admiring the effect. To tell the truth, the effect was not entirely desirable. The pearls did not improve the look of her rather coarse brown skin; and her skin added nothing to the beauty of the pearls. Sonia saw this, and so did the Duke. He looked at Sonia's white throat. She met his eyes and blushed. She knew that the same thought was in both their minds; the pearls would have looked infinitely better there.

      Germaine finished admiring herself; she was incapable even of suspecting that so expensive a pendant could not suit her perfectly.

      The Duke said idly: "Goodness! Are all those invitations to the wedding?"

      "That's only down to the letter V," said Germaine proudly.

      "And there are twenty-five letters in the alphabet! You must be inviting the whole world. You'll have to have the Madeleine enlarged. It won't hold them all. There isn't a church in Paris that will," said the Duke.

      "Won't it be a splendid marriage!" said Germaine. "There'll be something like a crush. There are sure to be accidents."

      "If I were you, I should have careful arrangements made," said the Duke.

      "Oh, let people look after themselves. They'll remember it better if they're crushed a little," said Germaine.

      There was a flicker of contemptuous wonder in the Duke's eyes. But he only shrugged his shoulders, and turning to Sonia, said, "Will you be an angel and play me a little Grieg, Mademoiselle Kritchnoff? I heard you playing yesterday. No one plays Grieg like you."

      "Excuse me, Jacques, but Mademoiselle Kritchnoff has her

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