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Updated: May 7, 2025
The Duchess and her brother, an ex-diplomatist, now deaf and patiently amiable and garrulous, had met on the doorstep of Snowdon House, and together they insisted on Lord Windlehurst coming in for a talk. The two men had not met for a long time, and the retired official had been one of Lord Windlehurst's own best appointments in other days. The Duchess had the carriage wait in consequence.
We sent word to Windlehurst to join us, you remember, but he won't come now; it's too late. So, we'll go, if you like." She half rose, but the door of the box opened, and Lord Windlehurst looked in quizzically. There was a smile on his face.
"My darling, I hadn't seen the sun rise in thirty years, not since the night I first met Windlehurst at a Foreign Office ball." "You have always been great friends?" Hylda stole a look at her. "That's the queer part of it; I was so stupid, and he so clever. But Windlehurst has a way of letting himself down to your level. He always called me Betty after my boy died, just as if I was his equal.
He told her briefly, adding: "I've watched the rise of Claridge Pasha. I've watched his cause grow, and now I shall see the man ah, but here comes our lass o' London!" The eyes of both brightened, and a whimsical pleasure came to the mask- like face of Lord Windlehurst. There was an eager and delighted look in Hylda's face also as she quickly came to them, her cavaliers following.
"I cannot, will not, bear the humiliation and the shame. This letter here you see!" "It is the letter of a woman who has had more affaires than any man in London. She is preternaturally clever, my dear Windlehurst would tell you so. The brilliant and unscrupulous, the beautiful and the bad, have a great advantage in this world. Eglington was curious, that is all.
Big tears ran down a face from which the glow of feeling had long fled, but her eyes were sad enough. "Gone gone! It is the end!" was all she could say. Lord Windlehurst frowned, though his eyes were moist. "We must act at once. You must go to Egypt, Betty. You must catch her at Marseilles. Her boat does not sail for three days. She thought it went sooner, as it was advertised to do.
"Mother," he said, "Windlehurst has just told me, in strict confidence, that he considers Maud's the most beautiful face he has ever seen, except, of course, in the best period of ancient Greek art. I knew you wanted to hear the unprejudiced opinion of an unbiased outsider." I wondered how Windlehurst would like the description!
There before her, looking more sinister than ever, stood the lunatic Peters; and there was an ominous bulge in his right coat-pocket which to her excited senses betrayed the presence of the revolver. What Jno. Peters was, as a matter of fact, carrying in his right coat-pocket was a bag of mixed chocolates which he had purchased in Windlehurst.
Look at it dispassionately, and you will see much to admire in his skill. He pleases, he amuses, he startles, he baffles, he mystifies." The Duchess made an impatient exclamation. "The silly newspapers call him a 'remarkable man, a personality. Now, believe me, Windlehurst, he will overreach himself one of these days, and he'll come down like a stick." "There you are on solid ground.
Oh, Persia Persia, and our feeble diplomacy, my dear lady, though you mustn't take that as my opinion, opponent as I am. That's the charge, Persia and her cats." The Duchess breathed a sigh of relief; for she knew what Windlehurst had been going to say, and she shrank from seeing what she felt she would see, if Egypt and Claridge Pasha's name were mentioned.
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