precise!"

"Really!" I exclaimed, "do you mean to say--"

"I expect she will have them married before they know it--Agatha's
dreadfully determined. Her character lies in her nose and chin."

"But Lisbeth is not a child--she has a will of her own, and--"

"True," nodded the Duchess, "but is it a match for Agatha's chin? And
then, too, it is rather more than possible that you are become the
object of her bitterest scorn by now.

"But, my dear Duchess--"

"Oh, Agatha is a born diplomat. Of course she has written before this,
and without actually saying it has managed to convey the fact that you
are a monster of perfidy; and Lisbeth, poor child, is probably crying
her eyes out, or imagining she hates you, is ready to accept the first
proposal she receives out of pure pique."

"Great heavens!" I exclaimed, "what on earth can I do?"

"You might go fishing," the Duchess suggested thoughtfully.

"Fishing!" I repeated, "--er, to be sure, but--"

"Riverdale is a very pretty place they tell me," pursued the Duchess in
the same thoughtful tone; "there is a house there, a fine old place
called Fane Court. It stands facing the river, and adjoins Selwyn
Park, I believe."

"Duchess," I exclaimed, as I jotted down the address upon my cuff, "I
owe you a debt of gratitude that I can never--"

"Tut, tut!" said her Grace.

"I think I'll start to-day, and--"

"You really couldn't do better," nodded the duchess.

* * * * *

And so it befell that on this August afternoon I sat in the shade of
the alders fishing, with the smoke of my pipe floating up into the
sunshine.

By adroit questioning I had elicited from mine host of the Three Jolly
Anglers the precise whereabouts of Fane Court, the abode of Lisbeth's
sister, and guided by his directions, had chosen this sequestered spot,
where by simply turning my head I could catch a glimpse of its tall
chimneys above the swaying green of the treetops.

It is a fair thing upon a summer's hot afternoon within some shady
bower to lie upon one's back and stare up through a network of branches
into the limitless blue beyond, while the air is full of the stir of
leaves, and the murmur of water among the reeds. Or propped on lazy
elbow, to watch perspiring wretches, short of breath and purple of
visage, urge boats upstream or down, each deluding himself into the
belief that he is enjoying it. Life under such conditions may seem
very fa