“I found that the Massingfords—that’s the family name of the Marquis of Crossley—I found they ranked higher as a family than any of the ducal families except one. Of course I don’t include the royal dukes.”
“Of course not,” said I gravely.
“I might possibly have got one of the royal dukes—if not in England, then here on the Continent. But I decided— You see, Godfrey, I looked into everything.”
“You certainly have been thorough,” said I. “I should have said it was impossible in so short a time.”
“But it wasn’t difficult. All the Americans over here are well informed about these things.”
“I can readily believe it,” said I. “But why did you turn down the poor royal dukes?”
“Because the other women would have made it dreadfully uncomfortable for Margot. They’d have hated her for taking precedence over them by such a long distance. Then, too—the dowry. I was afraid you couldn’t afford the dowry—or wouldn’t think the title worth the money. Indeed, I didn’t think so, myself.”
“A royal duke comes high?”
“The least dowry would be seventy-five million francs.”
“Fifteen million dollars!” I exclaimed. “Whew!”