BOOK FIFTH: THE DUCHESS
he went on. "That's another reason why I hold you can help me."
"Yes—I've seen her."
"Well, there she is." It was as if, in the pause that followed this, they sat looking at little absent Aggie with a wonder that was almost equal. "The good God has given her to me," the Duchess said at last.
"It seems to me then that she herself is, in her remarkable loveliness, really your help."
"She will be doubly so if you give me proofs that you believe in her." And the Duchess, appearing to consider that with this she had made herself clear and her interlocutor plastic, rose in confident majesty. "I leave it to you."
Mr. Longdon did the same, but with more consideration now. "Is it your expectation that I will speak to Mr. Mitchett?"
"Don't flatter yourself he won't speak to you!"
Mr. Longdon made it out. "As supposing me, you mean, an interested party?"
She clapped her gloved hands with joy. "It's a delight to hear you practically admit that you are one! Mr. Mitchett will take anything from you—above all perfect candor. It isn't every day one meets your kind, and he's a connoisseur. I leave it to you—I leave it to you."
She spoke as if it were something she had thrust bodily into his hands and wished to hurry away from. He put his hands behind him—straightening himself a little, half kindled, still half confused. "You're all extraordinary people!"
She gave a toss of her head that showed a limited enthusiasm. "You're the best of us, caro mio—you and Aggie: for Aggie's as good as you. Mitchy's good too, however—Mitchy's beautiful. You see it's not only his money. He's a gentleman. So are you. There aren't
213
