Mrs. Radigan shuddered. She always shudders when Sir Charles is mentioned; but on my part I feel that I owe him a heavy debt, for by the time we had had him with us two days at Westbury, the suppression of the solicitor became more the ambition of Mrs. Radigan than the capture of his noble client. Pearl says frankly that she never in the world could have refused the Duke of her own accord, as a girl can't marry a nobleman every day, and real-estate agents are a drug in the market. But when Sir Charles came, when he took possession of the house and of the opinions of all its occupants, when he had utterly crushed us and made us feel our ignorance and humbleness, her future became a second thought, and the desire to turn possessed her. Pearl smiles softly as she says this. It is her inscrutable smile, and may hide something; but I care little, for she did turn.
That night when Mrs. Radigan brought Sir Charles into the smoking-room, when she tucked me under her arm and dragged me away, when I looked back and saw Pearl toss her cigarette into the fire and fix her lustrous eyes on the English solicitor, I thought all was over. Sir Charles had said that it would only take a minute to settle the whole thing; but he did not know Pearl Veal. She listened to him silently, and the proposal in behalf of the Duke of Nocastle must have been well worth hearing. Sir Charles repeated all his Grace's titles, told her the history of the ducal house of Fitznit and its glories, of its manors, halls, and bowers; of its present head and his virtues, his service in the commissary department in South Africa, and his speech in the House of Lords on the ginger-beer evil. Lastly, in a softer voice, Sir Charles spoke to Pearl of his Grace's love. He talked very nicely, too, she says, and quite affected her, quite overwhelmed her with the sense of her lowliness and the high honor his Grace had conferred in stooping to offer her his hand, when he had the proudest women in England at his feet.
"And now," said the lawyer rising, "I may tell his Grace that you will be proud to accept his offer."
Pearl rose, too, stepped to the table and picked up a bit of paper and a pencil.
"How much does he owe?" she said, chewing the rubber while she eyed the great man.
"But, my dear Miss Vial, he is a duke," protested Sir Charles. "And that little matter has been arranged by Mrs. Batigan."
"But I might like to spend my money in other ways," said Pearl.
So Sir Charles indignantly got out a note-book and gave her the figures. It was a paltry sum compared to our Wall Street failures, and he assured her that the creditors would take two shillings in the pound and be thankful for it. They seldom got more from dukes.
Pearl lighted a cigarette, and as she leaned easily against the table she watched a spire of smoke go curling away into the dark recesses of the ceiling.
"Well, Miss Vial?" said Sir Charles testily.