"You would not have thought so if you had seen the way she received the news that he was invited," grumbled the Duke.
"If you associated more with women you would understand them better," replied the other.
"I dare say." The Englishman was cooler, and at last made up his mind to take one of Mr. Barker's cigars. When he had lit it, he looked across at his friend. "How do you expect to manage it?" he inquired.
"If you will write a simple little note to the Countess, and say you are sorry there should have been any misunderstanding, and if you and I leave those two to themselves for ten days, even if she invites us to dinner, they will manage it between them, depend upon it. They are in love, you know perfectly well."
"I suppose they are," said the Duke, as if he did not understand that kind of thing. "I think I will have some curaçao and potass;" and he rang the bell.
"That's not half a bad idea," he said when he was refreshed. "I begin to think you are not so idiotic as I supposed."
"Waal," said Barker, suddenly affecting the accents of his native shore, "I ain't much on the drivel this journey anyhow." The Duke laughed; he always laughed at Americanisms.
"I guess so," said the Duke, trying ineffectually to mimic his friend. Then he went on in his natural voice, "I have an idea."
"Keep it," said Barker; "they are scarce."
"No; seriously. If we must leave them alone, why—why should we not go down and look at the yacht?"