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Updated: May 11, 2025
He held out his arm nervously, and we finally got to the dining-room and found two seats. It was not until dinner was almost over that I found out he was the Duke of Myrlshire, and ought to have taken in Lady Tilchester. Augustus had placed himself next the purple lady, and his face grew a gray mauve with excitement at her gracious glances. My ducal partner was unattractive.
"Superficial." "Possibly." Then our eyes met. "Comtesse, we are not here to talk about the Duke of Myrlshire in these our few minutes of grace. The 6.42 train will soon be in." And he sat down again beside me. "What shall we talk about, then?" I asked, trying to keep my head. A maddening sensation of excitement made my voice sound strained. "First, I want to tell you how beautiful I find my room.
He was reading his letters, and glanced up at me with heavy, bloodshot eyes. "Just got a line from Myrlshire," he said, pompously, without a trace of shame or regret in his voice. "He says he has written to you, too; he wants me to shoot on the 30th." I remained silent. I did not mean to irritate him, but the whole scene made me numb with disgust. "Why the devil don't you answer?"
But when the tuff-tuff-tuff of his automobile subsided in the distance, I felt as if all things were dead. The evening post brought an invitation from the Duke of Myrlshire, asking us to go and stay with him for a small shoot on the 30th of October. Augustus sent for me. As I had promised, I had not been near him until this moment. He was still in bed, and looked ill and unshaven.
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