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So-and-So to know each other, as I hope you'll meet again, while you're staying with me. Lady Betty Bulkeley, etc., etc. I wonder if you have ever met her brother, the Duke of Stanforth, and her cousin, the Marquis of Loveland, over in London?"
"I represent The New York Flashlight, and I've been sent by my paper to get something from you, if you'll oblige me." "Something from me?" I repeated, bewildered. "Is it anything to do with the Customs? I've nothing to declare." "Just tell me, please, something about your family. Your brother's the Duke of Stanforth, isn't he?" "Yes, but " "Thanks. Young and unmarried, isn't he?" "Yes. But "
I caught a look from Vic and broke off my sentence, hurrying to change it into another. "As they're sailing for the States so soon, I shan't have time to spread myself much." "Don't be slangy, Betty; it doesn't suit you," said Mother. "You pick up too many things from Stanforth." "Trust him not to drop anything worth having," interpolated Vic, which was pert; but Mother never reproves her.
It was because she thought Miss Woodburn might do for Stanforth, who must marry money, and is too poor, horribly poor, to be much of a catch with most English heiresses, who aren't as keen on titles as they used to be, unless there's some solid foundation for them to stand on, and not wobble.
When we had unpacked, we three went to luncheon, and took the first seats which were vacant. But presently Mrs. Ess Kay sent for the chief steward or someone important. "I am Mrs. Stuyvesant-Knox," said she, in a haughty voice, "and I have as my guest Lady Betty Bulkeley, daughter of the Duchess of Stanforth. You must give me three of the best seats at the Captain's table."
I often feel like that; but there's nobody to tell, except the trees and the dogs, and my poor pony, who is almost too old and second-childish now to understand. She was my brother Stanforth's pony first of all, and Stanforth is twenty-eight; then she was Vic's, and Vic is but Mother doesn't like Vic's age to be mentioned any more, though she is years younger than Stan.
It is short notice, but if they have other engagements they will break them," returned Mother; and though it would be as impossible for her to be vulgar or snobbish, as it would for a tall white arum lily to be either of those things, still I couldn't help feeling that her unconscious thought was: "The invitation to a couple of unknown, touring Americans, from the Duchess of Stanforth, is equivalent to my receiving a Royal Command."
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