When the cab reached Datchet House his grace dashed up the steps three at a time. The door flew open.
"Has the duchess returned?"
"Hereward!"
A voice floated downward from above. Some one came running down the stairs. It was her Grace of Datchet.
"Mabel!"
She actually rushed into the duke's extended arms. And he kissed her, and she kissed him—before the servants.
"So you're not quite dead?" she cried.
"I am almost," he said.
She drew herself a little away from him.
"Hereward, were you seriously hurt?"