A few minutes later they were seated in a Strand restaurant, and the young Scotsman heard all about his friend's struggles with the demon of poverty in New York, but never a word of the trouble that was brooding. In his turn Forsyth was able to fill in the blanks of the family solicitor's cablegram, and enlightened Beaumanoir as to the manner of his succession to the title. The late Duke was traveling to Newmarket in a racing "special," accompanied by his nephew and heir, George Hanbury, when they had both met their deaths in a collision.
The double funeral had taken place at Prior's Tarrant, the ancestral seat of the Dukes of Beaumanoir in Hertfordshire, three days before, the arrangements having been made by the solicitors, in the absence of the next successor. The last Duke having been a childless widower, and both his brothers, the fathers respectively of George and Charles Hanbury, having predeceased him, there had been no near relatives to follow the late head of the house to his last resting-place.
"Let me see, my cousin George had a sister, Sybil, who used to live with my uncle," Beaumanoir mused aloud. "I wonder what has become of her."
"I believe that she is still at your town house in Piccadilly," replied Forsyth with a constraint which the other did not notice in his self-absorption. But the next moment it struck Beaumanoir as odd that the information should have been so readily forthcoming, for he had been unaware that his friend knew his relatives.
"You have made Sybil Hanbury's acquaintance, then?" he asked.
"Yes, since your departure for America," was the reply. "I had the pleasure of meeting her first at my uncle's in Grosvenor Gardens—General Sadgrove's, you know. I dare say you remember him?"
"Oh, yes; I remember the General well—a shrewd old party with eyes like gimlets," said Beaumanoir. "But what's this about Grosvenor Gardens?" he added quickly. "The Sadgroves used to live in Bruton Street."
"Quite so; but they moved to 140 Grosvenor Gardens, last Christmas."
"140!" exclaimed the Duke. "Why, that's where the Shermans are going to stay. Some friends of mine who—who came over in the same ship," he went on to explain rather lamely.
Forsyth shot an amused glance at his old crony. "Yes, I know that Uncle Jem was expecting some Americans to put up with him, and he has been raving about the charms of the young lady of the party for the last fortnight. You are excited, Charley. Your manner has struck me as strange since we met at the hotel. Is it permitted to inquire if my uncle is entertaining unawares—a future Duchess?"