that knowledge."
"God forgive me if I was cruel to him," said Dodo. "But, oh, Jack, I did try. I was mad that night I think."
"Don't talk of it," said he suddenly; "it was horrible; it was shameful."
They were silent a moment. Then Jack said,—
"Dodo, let us bury the thought of that for ever. There are some memories which are sacred to me. The memory of Chesterford is one. He was very faithful, and he was very unhappy. I feel as if I was striking his dead body when you speak of it. Requiescat."
They rose and went down to the hotel; the sun had set, and it grew suddenly cold.
The theatricals that night were a great success. Dodo was simply inimitable. Two maiden ladies left the hotel the next morning.
Chapter Seventeen
Dodo's marriage was announced in September. It was to be celebrated at the beginning of December, and was to be very grand indeed. Duchesses were expected to be nothing accounted of. She was still in Switzerland when it was made known, and events had developed themselves. The announcement came out in the following manner. She had taken her moonlight walk, but not with Prince Waldenech. She had mentioned to him incidentally that Jack was coming as well, and after dinner the Prince found he had important despatches waiting for him. Dodo was rather amused at the inadequacy of this statement, as no post had come in that morning. The thought that the Prince particularly wished to take a romantic walk with her was entertaining. Next morning, however, while Dodo was sitting in her room, looking out over the wide, green valley, her maid came in and asked if Prince Waldenech might have permission to speak to her.
"Good morning," said Dodo affably, as he entered. "I wish you had been with us last night. We had a charming walk, but Jack was dreadfully dull. Why didn't you come?"
The Prince twisted his long moustaches.
"Certainly I had no despatches," he declared with frankness; "that was—how do you call it?—oh, a white lie."
"Did you expect me to believe it?" asked Dodo.
"Assuredly not," he returned. "It would have been an insult to your understanding. But such statements are better than the truth sometimes. But I came here for another purpose—to say good-bye."
"You're not going?" said Dodo surprisedly.
"Unless you tell me to stop," he murmured, advancing to her.
Dodo read his meaning at once, and determined to stop his saying anything more.
"Certainly I tell you to stop," she said. "You mustn't break up our charming party so soon. Besides, I have a piece of news for you this morning. I ask for your congratulations."
"Ah, those despatches," murmured the Prince.
"No, it was not the fault of your despatches," said Dodo, laughing. "It was settled some time ago. I shall be Lady Chesterford again next year. Allow me to introduce the Marchioness of Chesterford elect to your Highness," and she swept him a little curtsey.
The Prince bowed.
"The Marquis of Chesterford is a very fortunate man," he said. "Decidedly I had better go away to-morrow."
Dodo felt annoyed with him. "I thought he was clever enough not to say that," she thought to herself.
"No, my dear Prince, you shall do nothing of the sort," she said. "You are very happy here, and I don't choose that you should go away—I tell you to stop. You said you would if I told you."
"I am a man of honour still," said he, with mock solemnity. He put both hands together and bowed. "I shall be the first to congratulate the Marquis," he said, "and may I hope the Marchioness will think with pity on those less fortunate than he."
Dodo smiled benignantly. He really had got excellent manners. The scene was artistic, and it pleased her.
"I should think you were too proud to accept pity," she said.
"Have you ever seen me other than humble—to you?" he asked.
"Take it then," said Dodo; "as much as your case requires. But I feel it is insolent of me to offer it."
"I take all the pity you have," said he, smiling gravely. "I want it more than any other poor devil you might think of bestowing it on."
He bowed himself gracefully out of the room. He and Dodo had been discussing English proverbs the day before, and Dodo asserted broadly that they were all founded on universal truths. The Prince thought that pity was quite a promising gift.
Dodo was a little uneasy after he had gone. She was always a trifle afraid of him, though, to do her justice, no one would have guessed it. He had acted the rejected lover in the theatricals of the week before, and his acting had been rather too good. The scene she had just gone through reminded her very forcibly of it. She had found that she could not get the play out of her head afterwards, and had had long waking dreams that night, in which the Prince appeared time after time, and her refusal got more faint as he pressed his suit. She felt that he was the stronger of the two, and such a scene as the last inspired her with a kind of self-distrust. "He will not make himself 'cheap,'" Dodo said to herself. She was very glad he was going to stop, and had been surprised to feel how annoyed she was when he said he had come to wish good-bye. But she felt he had a certain power over her, and did not quite like it. She would take Jack out for a walk and make things even. Jack had no power over her, and she thought complacently how she could turn him round her little finger. Dear old Jack! What a good time they were going to have.
She went downstairs and met the Prince and Jack on the verandah. The former was murmuring congratulatory speeches, and Jack was saying "Thanks awfully" at intervals. He had once said to Dodo that the Prince was "an oily devil," which was putting it rather strongly. Dodo had stuck up for him. "You only say he's oily," she said, "because he's got much better manners than you, and can come into the room without looking ridiculous, and I rather like devils as a rule, and him in particular, though I don't say he is one. Anyhow he is a friend of mine, and you can talk about something else."
Jack followed Dodo into the square, and sat down by her.
"What made you tell that chap that we were engaged?" he asked.
"Oh, I had excellent reasons," said Dodo.
The memory of the interview was still rather strong in her mind, and she felt not quite sure of herself.
"No doubt," said Jack; "but I wish you'd tell me what they were."
"Don't talk as if you were the inquisition, old boy," she said. "I don't see why I should tell you if I don't like."
"Please yourself," said Jack crossly, and got up to walk away.
"Jack, behave this minute," said Dodo. "Apologise instantly for speaking like that."
"I beg its little pardon," said Jack contentedly.
He liked being hauled over the coals by Dodo.
"That's
