"But your Grace," interposed Lothaw, who was still quite young, and had dropped on all-fours on the carpet in search of the missing gem, "consider the value—"
"Dear friend," interposed the Duchess, with infinite tact, gently lifting him by the tails of his dress-coat, "I am waiting for your arm."
CHAPTER II.
Lothaw was immensely rich. The possessor of seventeen castles, fifteen villas, nine shooting-boxes, and seven town houses, he had other estates of which he had not even heard.
Everybody at Plusham played croquet, and none badly. Next to their purity of blood and great wealth, the family were famous for this accomplishment. Yet Lothaw soon tired of the game, and after seriously damaging his aristocratically large foot in an attempt to "tight croquet" the Lady Aniseed's ball, he limped away to join the Duchess.
"I'm going to the hennery," she said.
"Let me go with you, I dearly love fowls—broiled," he added, thoughtfully.
"The Duke gave Lady Montairy some large Cochins the other day," continued the Duchess, changing the subject with delicate tact.
"Lady Montairy,
Quite contrairy,
How do your cochins grow?"
sang Lothaw gayly.