No one else said a word. But they all seemed most interested, in Nina especially.
"But now he's gone to Scotland, you say?" she asked.
"Yes, to Scotland. Are there any zoölogical gardens in Scotland, I wonder? Doody, are there any zoölogical gardens in Scotland?"
"Nibbetts has gone to Dundee," the duchess returned, pouring tea. "I don't fancy he'll be able to find any tigers there."
"There's a girl there," said Nina. "He told me so. A girl and a parrot. Can you imagine Nibbetts and a romance?" Her laugh rippled through her veil.
Sir George handed her her tea, and she lifted her veil to a point between her nose and her upper lip. The women stared, and so did the men. But there wasn't a scar in sight.
"Do try the seed-cake," urged the duke. "I can recommend it. I can, really."
Nina tried it. A minute later her veil went to the bridge of her nose, which she brushed with a filmy speck of handkerchief.
They all gazed over their cups, and their eyes testified to their astonishment. Her cheeks were of rose-leaf texture, unmarred.
Then, quite casually, she put down her cup and saucer, lifted her arms, got busy with her hands, and—presto!—her hat and veil were off and her whole face bare to where her golden hair swept across her brow.