Tales of two people

“You will take me back?”

The Duke looked at his watch. “You shall be at the vicarage not later than half-past ten.”

“Oh, but that’s very late!”

“Earlier, if you wish, but in no case later. After all, Mrs Hordern has gone to bed – and Captain Anderson is probably very busy.”

Angela looked at him; her eyes twinkled a little – or maybe that was only an impression of the Duke’s.

“I’ve always heard that it’s dangerous to thwart mad people,” she said.

The Duke has been heard to say that this young lady, whom he entertained that night in a manner which may be termed purely fortuitous, was one of the most agreeable companions whom it had ever been his fortune to meet. The praise, coming from him, is high. There can be little doubt that Miss Angela Hordern, in her turn, felt the attraction which the Duke’s good-breeding and intellectual alertness seldom failed to arouse.

“I should love a motor!” sighed Miss Angela.

“You’re going to have one,” said the Duke. “But we must have something to eat first.”

“You talk as if you were a prince in disguise!” she laughed.

The Duke laughed too, reflecting that, as a matter of strict formality, he was entitled to the style she mentioned. In view of this fact he did not feel called upon expressly to deny the suggestion. There can be little doubt that his silence, to which perhaps she attributed too much significance, enhanced the pleasure of her ride.

“I’m to know you then only by that very funny name?”

In an examination of her profile – for which the light still sufficed – the Duke had grown abstracted. “What name?” he murmured vaguely.

“The one you told mamma – Devil! That’s not really your name?”

“Not exactly!” laughed the Duke.

“I should think not,” laughed the lady. Herself somewhat addicted to colloquial expressions, she failed to understand with what accuracy the Duke had phrased his reply.

“I shall think of you as the Prince of Darkness,” said she with the kindliest glance.

“I doubt whether much of this is not wasted on a Chief Constable,” thought the Duke.

“Are you married?” she asked.

“I am not,” said the Duke, turning sharply round as he spoke. He fancied that he had heard Monsieur Alphonse exclaim “Mon Dieu!” It must have been a mistake. Both Monsieur Alphonse and Frank appeared to be asleep.

“I’m going to be.”

“You’ve conveyed that to me already.”

“He’s such a dear!”

“I think, Ferdinand, that we might venture on going a little faster,” said the Duke. “Your licence is new: we will take the risk.”

Perhaps Miss Angela detected a certain lack of enthusiasm in the Duke’s demeanour. At any rate she said no more about the Chief Constable. From no point of view, if we consider the matter, would the topic be a grateful one to her host.

They were on the outskirts of London, flashing by Hampstead Heath.

“Is this actually London?” she asked, somewhat alarmed. “You will remember your promise?”

The Duke looked at his watch. “Eight-twenty! The Savoy would be rather a rush for you.” He called across to Monsieur Ferdinand: “To the cottage!”

Five minutes later they stopped before the Duke’s small house in a lane adjoining the Heath.

“Monsieur Alphonse, here’s your opportunity. A nice little dinner in a quarter of an hour for mademoiselle and myself!”

“It shall be so, Monsieur le– ”

“Quick, quick!” interrupted the Duke. “Excuse me one moment. Frank, show Miss Hordern in, and see to her wants. I must have a word with Ferdinand.”

Angela Hordern entered the little house full of a pleasurable anticipation. All was ready for them; fresh flowers bloomed everywhere; The Observer and The Referee lay on the table. She turned to Frank in a sudden surprise:

“He meant to come here all the time?”

“No, madam. But this is always kept ready by his Gra – , – by my master’s orders.”

“He must be very rich!”

“I am given to understand that the revenue has decreased slightly of late,” was Frank’s answer, given with admirable carelessness.

“That’s all settled,” said the Duke, entering the room with a cheerful air. “I’m right, Frank, in supposing that Sir Gerald Standish is still in the Bahamas?”

“Yes, your – ” He caught the Duke’s eye, and dexterously ended: “Quite right, sir.”

“Then this car will do admirably,” said the Duke. “You have no idea,” he continued to Angela, “how convenient it is to persuade two or three friends to allow one to register a car or two in their names, especially when they happen to be leaving the country. I don’t happen to be aware whether the practice is legal.”

Frank brought in an omelette.

“Pray be seated,” continued the Duke. “This particular car will take you home in forty-five minutes. Ferdinand has gone to bring it here – and a most trustworthy man to drive you.”

“But – but what am I to do with them?”

“The man will remove the number of the car, and himself return by train – ”

“There isn’t any train at this time of night – or rather at the time it will be by then.”

“Oh yes, there’ll be a train – Ferdinand won’t forget that.”

“You mean – a special?”

“Really,” said the Duke, with the slightest air of being questioned enough, “they have so many different names for trains that I don’t encumber my memory with them. There will, however, be a train. As for the car – What’s this, Frank?”

“Alphonse offers his sincere apologies. But the design, at least, is novel. The way the truffles are arranged – ”

“Miss Hordern will excuse our shortcomings. Where is the champagne?”