"Well, but why is the Duke to be worried, too? I don't know him yet; I've only caught sight of him at Hurlingham. Why must he be worried?"
"If he isn't, he is apt to get obstreperous—in quite, quite a different way from the Duchess. I can't explain, really. You'll soon find out. Oh, I forgot, though, you're a man at present, so you won't."
Chloe smiled a rather charming smile of comprehension. But Mrs. Verulam was looking at her with a sort of dawning expression that seemed to mingle alarm with amusement.
"Unless," she added slowly, "unless he should chance to confide in you—in the smoking-room after we've all gone to bed."
"Gracious heavens! I shall go to bed, too."
"Yes, perhaps that would be better."
"I'm quite certain it would. I don't want to feel like Daniel in the lions' den. There's the gong! Oh, I'm so hungry! That's one advantage of being a man—one can eat more if one wishes to."
"Come along, then. But where's—oh, here you are, Mr. Rodney."
Mr. Rodney at this moment entered, looking far more solemn than any owl, and, indeed, with knitted brows and a face almost entirely covered with an artistic disposition of wrinkles.