"But," said Barnabas, looking from one to the other, "I don't
understand!"
"Neither do we, Bev. Only, dear fellow, remember this, 'there is a
destiny which shapes our ends,' and--occasionally, a Duchess." But
here, while Barnabas still glanced at them in perplexity, John
Peterby appeared, bearing a tray whereon stood a decanter and glasses.
"Ha!--most excellent Peterby!" cried the Viscount, "you come pat to
the occasion, as usual. Fill up for all of us, yes--even my small
Imp yonder; I have a toast to give you." And, when the glasses
brimmed, the Viscount turned and looked at Barnabas with his boyish
smile. "Let us drink," said he, "to the Future, and the Duchess's
move!"
So the toast was drunk with all due honors: but when Barnabas sought
an explanation, the Viscount laughed and shook his head.
"Pray ask my Viscountess," said he, with a fond look at her, and
turned away to rebuckle a trace under the anxious supervision of
Master Milo.
"Indeed, no, Barnabas," said Clemency, smiling, "I cannot explain,
as Dick well knows. But this I must tell you, while you lay here,
very near death, I came to see you often with my dear father.
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