CHAPTER XXXII

"Never knew you to tumble before, Leah," grumbled the Duke, next morning, when admitted into his wife's bedroom.

"Accidents will happen," murmured the Duchess, rather lamely, and too much shaken to be original. "I can't talk, Jim--my mouth is still sore."

"What can you expect if you go a mucker? An' th' season's startin', too. You'll not be able to show with that swellin'."

"A week at Firmingham will put me right. Katinka Aksakoff is coming down also."

"Heard she looked in last night. What made her call at so late an hour?"

"She's worried about her father," lied Leah, prepared for the question.

"Had an almighty row with him over that bounder doctor, I expect."

Leah nodded languidly. "M. Aksakoff has gone to Southend. I take his daughter with me there, to make peace."

"Southend? There's a hole! What's he doin' in that roost?"

"How should I know? I'll reconcile the two if I can, and Katinka can be my companion at Firmingham."

"Dull company," confessed Jim, candidly; "she never could flirt."

"That will be no drawback," said his wife, dryly. "Go away, please."

"What lie am I to tell 'bout your sickness?"

"Tell the truth, by way of a novelty; or if you prefer a lie, say that I have appendicitis. One must be fashionable, even in diseases."

"All right," said Jim, too obtuse to note the irony. "Sorry you're so