"
"Oh yes,--you're quite a fool--not a doubt of it!" said the Duchess
with a nod of finality. "And yet, oh, dear me! I think it may be
because I'm seventy-one and growing younger every day, or perhaps
because I'm so old that I have to wear a wig, but my tastes are so
peculiar that there are some fools I could almost--love. So you may
give me your arm,--Barnabas."
He obeyed mechanically, and they went on down the road together in
silence until they came to a pair of tall, hospitable gates, and
here Barnabas paused, and spoke wonderingly:
"Madam, you--you surely forget I am the son of--"
"A champion of all England, Barnabas. But, though you can thrash Sir
Mortimer Carnaby, Wilfred Chichester is the kind of creature that
only a truly clever woman can hope to deal with, so you may leave him
to me!"
"But, madam, I--"
"Barnabas, quite so. But Wilfred Chichester always makes me shudder,
and I love to shudder--now and then, especially in the hot weather.
And then everything bores me lately--Cleone, myself,--even Whist, so
I'll try my hand at another game--with Wilfred Chichester as an
opponent."
"But, Duchess, indeed I--"
"Very true, Barnabas! but the matter is quite settled.
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