Yorke nodded and leant back, his eyes fixed on the fire.
"You dine here to-night?" asked the duke after a pause.
Yorke nodded again.
"Thanks, yes. I'll take my dinner in here with you, if you don't mind."
"No, I don't mind," said the duke with a smile of gratitude and affection lighting up his wan face. "I wish you were going to dine in here with me for the rest of my life; but that's rather selfish, isn't it? Don't be longer away than you can help, Yorke. It may happen that Eleanor will get tired of the Continent; if she should, come home at once."
"Very well," said Yorke. "I am in her hands, of course."
"Of course, and you couldn't be in better or sweeter."
"No," assented Yorke absently. "Did you send back that draft of the leases I posted to you?"
"Eh?" The duke thought a moment. "No, I didn't. I forgot all about them."
Yorke smiled.