n
humble player--called Nell Gwyn."

The Duchess raised herself to her full height.

"Nell Gwyn!" she hissed, and she fairly tore off her veil.

"Your grace's most humble servant," said Nell, again courtesying low and
gracefully removing her veil.

"This is a trap," exclaimed the Duchess, as she realized the situation.

"Heaven bless the brain that set it then," sweetly suggested Nell.

"Your own, minx," snapped Portsmouth. "I'll not look at the hussy!" she
muttered. She crossed the room and seated herself upon the bench, back
to Nell.

"Your grace would be more kind if you knew my joy at seeing you."

"And why?" asked the Duchess, ironically.

"I would emulate your warmth and amiability," tenderly responded Nell.

"Yes?" said Portsmouth; but how much again there was in her little
"yes," accented as it was with a French shrug.

"I adore a beautiful woman," continued Nell, "especially when I know her
to be--"

"A successful rival?" triumphantly asked the Duchess.

"A rival!" exclaimed Nell, in well-feigned astonishment, still toying
with the Duchess's temper. "Is the poor actress so honoured in a
duchess's thought? Your grace is generous."

If all the angels had united, they could not have made her speech more
sweet or her manner more enticing.

"I presumed you might conceive it so," replied Portsmouth, with mocking,
condescending mien.

Nell approached her timidly and spoke softly, lovingly, subserviently.

"A rival to the great Duchess of Portsmouth!" she said. "Perish the
thought! It is with trepidation I look upon your glorious face, madame;
a figure that would tempt St. Anthony; a foot so small it makes us swear
the gods have lent invisible wings to waft you to your conquest. Nay, do
not turn your rosy lip in scorn; I am in earnest, so in earnest, that,
were I but a man, I would bow me down your constant slave--unless
perchance you should grow fat."

The turn was delicious: Nell's face was a study; and so was
Portsmouth's.

The Duchess sprang to her feet, realizing fully for the first time that
she had been trapped and trifled with. "Hussy! Beware your own lacings,"
she angrily exclaimed, turning now full face upon her adversary.

Nell was leaning against the table across the room, quietly observing
Portsmouth upon the word-wrack. Her whole manner had changed. She
watched with evident delight the play of discomfiture, mingled with
contempt, upon the beautiful Duchess's face.

"_Me_ fat!" s