Yet here was Jacob interposing!—­Jacob, who had evidently been watching his mild attempt at castigation, no doubt with disapproval.  Lover or no lover—­what did the man expect?  Under his placid exterior, Sir Wilfrid’s mind was, in truth, hot with sympathy for the old and helpless.

Delafield bent over Miss Le Breton.

“You will go and rest?  Evelyn advises it.”

She rose to her feet, and most of the party rose, too.

“Good-bye—­good-bye,” said Lord Lackington, offering her a cordial hand.  “Rest and forget.  Everything blows over.  And at Easter you must come to me in the country.  Blanche will be with me, and my granddaughter Aileen, if I can tempt them away from Italy.  Aileen’s a little fairy; you’d be charmed with her.  Now mind, that’s a promise.  You must certainly come.”

The Duchess had paused in her farewell nothings with Sir Wilfrid to observe her friend.  Julie, with her eyes on the ground, murmured thanks; and Lord Lackington, straight as a dart to-night, carrying his seventy-five years as though they were the merest trifle, made a stately and smiling exit.  Julie looked round upon the faces left.  In her own heart she read the same judgment as in their eyes:  “The old man must know!”

The Duke came into the drawing-room half an hour later in quest of his wife.  He was about to leave town by a night train for the north, and his temper was, apparently, far from good.

The Duchess was stretched on the sofa in the firelight, her hands behind her head, dreaming.  Whether it was the sight of so much ease that jarred on the Duke’s ruffled nerves or no, certain it is that he inflicted a thorny good-bye.  He had seen Lady Henry, he said, and the reality was even worse than he had supposed.  There was absolutely nothing to be said for Miss Le Breton, and he was ashamed of himself to have been so weakly talked over in the matter of the house.  His word once given, of course, there was an end of it—­for six months.  After that, Miss Le Breton must provide for herself.  Meanwhile, Lady Henry refused to receive the Duchess, and would be some time before she forgave himself.  It was all most annoying, and he was thankful to be going away, for, Lady Rose or no Lady Rose, he really could not have entertained the lady with civility.

“Oh, well, never mind, Freddie,” said the Duchess, springing up.  “She’ll be gone before you come back, and I’ll look after her.”

The Duke offered a rather sulky embrace, walked to the door, and came back.

“I really very much dislike this kind of gossip,” he said, stiffly, “but perhaps I had better say that Lady Henry believes that the affair with Delafield was only one of several.  She talks of a certain Captain Warkworth—­”

“Yes,” said the Duchess, nodding.  “I know; but he sha’n’t have Julie.”

Her smile completed the Duke’s annoyance.

“What have you to do with it?  I beg, Evelyn—­I insist—­that you leave Miss Le Breton’s love affairs alone.”