a
week ago into someone who demanded of one's chivalry, of one's courtesy,
protection.

Roddy had also caught the light of fierce recognition that had leapt up
into Breton's face as he had realized who it was that stood before him.
Breton must have many old scores to pay.... Roddy was suddenly
frightened of the emotions, the fierce resentments, the angry rebellions
that he had brought so lightly into collision.

But the smile that the Duchess flung to him had in it no fear. It said
to him: "Oh, young man, _this_ is your little plot, is it? Oh, Roddy, my
friend, _how_ young you are and _how_ little you know me if you think
that I am in the least embarrassed by this little gathering. I'm glad
that you've given me a chance of showing what I can do."

She dominated the room; she was, from the minute of her appearance,
mistress of the situation. They realized her power as they had never
realized it before.

Sitting there, leaning forward upon her cane, she remarkably resembled
Yale Ross's portrait. She was even wearing the green jade pendant, and
her black dress, her bonnet, her fine white wrists, a gold chain with
its jangling cluster of things--a gold pencil, a card case, a netted
purse--these flung into fine relief the sharp white face lit now with an
amused, an ironic vitality.

She was old, she was ill, she was being trodden down by generations
hungrier than any that she had ever known, but she was as indomitable as
she had ever been.

She looked about the room; her glance passed, without any flash of
recognition, without sign or signal that she had realized his presence,
over the fierce figure of her grandson.

"Well, my dear," she said to Rachel, "I'm sure this is all very pleasant
and most unexpected. Let's have some tea."

"I'm afraid," said Rachel, "that it's been standing some time. Let me
ring for some fresh."

"No--I like it strong. It used always to be strong when I was younger.
This new generation likes things weak, I believe."

Rachel, looking at her grandmother, felt nothing of Roddy's compunction.
She did not, even now, grasp entirely Roddy's intention; she had no sure
conviction of the climax that he intended; but she _did_ know that here,
at last, was her chance; she should lift, once and for all, out from all
the lies and confusion that had shrouded them, her attempts at courage
and honesty, attempts that had wretchedly, most forlornly failed.

Breton should know, Roddy should know, the Duc