BOOK SECOND: LITTLE AGGIE
have regarded it as disloyal to introduce there a new piece of furniture in an underhand way—that is without a full appeal to herself, the highest authority, and the consequent bestowal of opportunity to nip the mistake in the bud. Mrs. Brookenham had repeatedly asked herself where in the world she might have found the money to be disloyal. The Duchess's standard was of a height—! It matched, for that matter, her other elements, which were as conspicuous as usual as she sat there suggestive of early tea. She always suggested tea before the hour, and her friend always, but with so different a wistfulness, rang for it. "Who's to be at Brander?" she asked.
"I haven't the least idea—he didn't tell me. But they've always a lot of people."
"Oh, I know—extraordinary mixtures. Has he been there before?"
Mrs. Brookenham thought. "Oh yes—if I remember—more than once. In fact her note—which he showed me, but which only mentioned 'some friends'—was a sort of appeal on the ground of something or other that had happened the last time."
The Duchess was silent a moment. "She writes the most extraordinary notes."
"Well, this was nice, I thought," Mrs. Brookenham said—"from a woman of her age and her immense position to so young a man."
Again the Duchess reflected. "My dear, she's not an American and she's not on the stage. Aren't those what you call positions in this country? And she's also not a hundred."
"Yes, but Harold's a mere baby."
"Then he doesn't seem to want for nurses!" the Duchess replied. She smiled at her friend. "Your children are like their mother—they're eternally young."
"Well, I'm not a hundred!" moaned Mrs. Brooken-
41
