"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry to be late! Do forgive me, everyone!" she cried, like a penitent schoolgirl. "I was kept so long at that meeting, and then I had to dash home for a minute. My husband had made me promise. You see, this is supposed to be a great day for me. The pearls—perhaps you've heard of them?—are due at last!"
"Perhaps" they had heard of the pearls! The Duchess was forgiven at once. Introductions were hastily made. As the party sat down, the guest of honour pulling off her gloves, she went on with her excuses. Evidently she was willing to talk of the pearls, so Nat ventured an entering wedge.
"Emmy wrote me they had to be re-strung," she said. "And that the most skilled pearl-stringer in England wasn't demobilized, or something; so you had to wait." What Emmy had really written was, "This is the story they're putting round." But it would be exciting to get Juliet's answer, and watch Juliet's face.
The Duchess was somewhat paler than Juliet Phayre had been, for she and the Duke had made a huge success in New York, and were in such request that they kept appalling hours. But she was rosier than she had ever been as she replied that, yes, she had had to wait. But at last the pearls had been sent. They were on the Britannia, in care of a trusted person; and that person had "wirelessed" that he would be at the house by half-past twelve. Unluckily, however, the Britannia had been delayed outside for a sister ship to leave the dock. She—Juliet—had gone home from Mrs. Van Esten's to receive the messenger, with her husband. But the former and Pat's trusted man, sent to meet him, had not arrived. She had waited a few minutes, and had then come on in the car to Mrs. Lowndes'. Of course, the auto had been detained for ages, at two or three crossings! It was always like that if one were late! And now she could not be at home when the pearls appeared, for there were engagements, which couldn't be broken, for the whole of the afternoon.
After all, the luncheon was a great success. The Duchess atoned for her sins by being "sweet" to everyone, much sweeter than she had troubled herself to be, as a spoiled young girl, with strangers. She was as pleased as a child with the delicious dishes ordered, almost with prayer, by Nat; and when she was obliged to go, after coffee and cigarettes, she left behind her a charming impression. Mrs. Selby-Saunders and Miss Solomon and all the rest made up for their sharp speeches by praising the bride's beauty and exquisite clothes.
"She's much prettier than she used to be," generously said Nat (who had never seen Juliet as Miss Phayre), "and the Duke must be a fool if he likes Lyda Pavoya better. If he neglects his wife, she won't have any trouble finding someone else who won't."
"What about that cousin of hers, Jack Manners, who used to be in love with her when she was almost a child?—a nephew of her mother's," asked Mrs. Selby-Saunders. "An awfully nice fellow! She ought to have married him. They say he volunteered before America joined the Allies, because she refused him——"
"He's in France still," Nat supplied the information eagerly. "My sister-in-law, Lady West, met him there——"
"I saw in some newspaper that he was to sail for home on the Britannia" said Miss Solomon. "Perhaps he is the messenger bringing the pearls!"