luxury of leaving it
unopened awhile. Whatever its purport, he knew it could but minister to
his happy malice. A few hours ago, with what shame and dread it would
have stricken him! Now it was a dainty to be dallied with.

His eyes rested on the black tin boxes that contained his robes of the
Garter. Hateful had been the sight of them in the watches of the night,
when he thought he had worn those robes for the last time. But now--!

He opened Zuleika's letter. It did not disappoint him.

"DEAR DUKE,--DO, DO forgive me. I am beyond words ashamed of the silly
tomboyish thing I did last night. Of course it was no worse than that,
but an awful fear haunts me that you MAY have thought I acted in anger
at the idea of your breaking your promise to me. Well, it is quite true
I had been hurt and angry when you hinted at doing that, but the moment
I left you I saw that you had been only in fun, and I enjoyed the joke
against myself, though I thought it was rather too bad of you. And
then, as a sort of revenge, but almost before I knew what I was doing,
I played that IDIOTIC practical joke on you. I have been MISERABLE ever
since. DO come round as early as possible and tell me I am forgiven. But
before you tell me that, please lecture me till I cry--though indeed I
have been crying half through the night. And then if you want to be VERY
horrid you may tease me for being so slow to see a joke. And then you
might take me to see some of the Colleges and things before we go on to
lunch at The MacQuern's? Forgive pencil and scrawl. Am sitting up in bed
to write.--Your sincere friend,

"Z. D.

"P.S.--Please burn this."

At that final injunction, the Duke abandoned himself to his mirth.
"Please burn this." Poor dear young woman, how modest she was in the
glare of her diplomacy! Why there was nothing, not one phrase, to
compromise her in the eyes of a coroner's jury!... Seriously, she
had good reason to be proud of her letter. For the purpose in view it
couldn't have been better done. That was what made it so touchingly
absurd. He put himself in her position. He pictured himself as her,
"sitting up in bed," pencil in hand, to explain away, to soothe, to
clinch and bind... Yes, if he had happened to be some other man--one
whom her insult might have angered without giving love its death-blow,
and one who could be frightened out of not keeping his word--this letter
would have been capital.

He helped himself to some more marmalad