"That's the best way of being in love," cried the Duchess. "And then, Julie"--she paused, and at last added, naïvely, as she laid her little hands on her friend's knee--"haven't you got any ambitions?"
"Plenty. Oh, I should like very well to play the duchess, with you to instruct me," said Julie, caressing the hands. "But I must choose my duke. And till the right one appears, I prefer my own wild ways."
"Afraid of Jacob Delafield? How odd!" said the Duchess, with her chin on her hands.
"It may be odd to you," said Julie, with vivacity. "In reality, it's not in the least odd. There's the same quality in him that there is in Lady Henry--something that beats you down," she added, under her breath. "There, that's enough about Mr. Delafield--quite enough."
And, rising, Julie threw up her arms and clasped her hands above her head. The gesture was all strength and will, like the stretching of a sea-bird's wings.
The Duchess looked at her with eyes that had begun to waver.
"Julie, I heard such an odd piece of news last night."
Julie turned.
"You remember the questions you asked me about Aileen Moffatt?"
"Perfectly."