mrs. lowndes, emmy west's sister-in-law, was giving a luncheon for the duchess of claremanagh; and the duchess was late. nine lovely ladies (including the hostess) were waiting for her in the futurist drawing room of an apartment overlooking the park. it was not to all tastes a beautiful drawing room, but it was expensive for all purses. so was the apartment; too expensive, billy lowndes' friends said, for his. as for the ladies, each one was beautiful, or her clothes were; for nat lowndes had chosen her guests with the special view of impressing the duchess, whom billy had tried to marry when she was miss phayre.

the invitations were for one-fifteen, and before one-thirty everyone had arrived—except the duchess. by twenty to two the nine voices were chattering with almost abnormal gaiety, but ears and eyes were secretly on the alert. natalie lowndes was not precisely in the duchess' "set", or if she was, moved on the chilled outer edge of it. these women who chatted in her startling salon would have preferred other engagements, if they had not been asked "to meet the duchess of claremanagh." most of them knew that billy had desperately wanted juliet phayre, and that juliet had been at school with his sister, lady west, now in london. their private opinion was that the duchess had accepted for lady west's sake rather than mrs. lowndes'; and as the minutes lagged, they wondered if the chief guest were purposely proving her slight esteem of the circle.

this idea ruffled their vanity, and as they talked, glancing at wrist watches, their irritation grew. natalie who, like her husband, was from the middle west, felt the atmosphere of her overheated room fall to zero. she began to feel sick at heart, and tears pricked her eyelids. but she kept a brave front.

no one had spoken yet of the delay, nor of the lady who caused it; but at a quarter to two it seemed better to be frank.

"i can't think what can have happened to juliet!" natalie said. (nat was one of those women who always called her smartest acquaintances by their christian names—behind their backs.) "we'll wait five minutes more—not a moment longer. i'm sure she wouldn't wish it."

"royalties are always so prompt," said mrs. sam selby-saunders, who knew the habits of kings and queens from the sunday supplements. "evidently dukes—or anyhow duchesses—don't follow their example."

"something must be the matter," nat defended the absent. "at first juliet was afraid she couldn't accept to-day. you know, there's a meeting this morning at mrs. van esten's, to arrange details of the wonderful roof garden show in aid of the armenians. juliet had to be present, as she's on the committee. but at last she decided she could get away in time. she must have been kept."

nobody spoke for a minute. if there had been only ten first families in new york, mrs. van esten would still have been high on the list. she was the organizer of the proposed entertainment, the plans for which were thrilling the town; and if this business were keeping the duchess, she was almost excusable. anyhow, nobody's feelings need be hurt.

suddenly, in the midst of the pause, miss solomon laughed. her father was as rich as silas phayre had been, and there was no reason why she shouldn't be a duchess, too, some day, when travel abroad became easier. "i did hear the loveliest thing!" she chuckled. "i wonder if any of you have heard it? ... that mrs. van esten meant to propose at the committee meeting to-day the name of lyda pavoya."

"good gracious, for what?" gasped nat lowndes.

"to dance at the entertainment, of course. mrs. van e.'s maid and my maid are cousins. so i should say it was true. you know mrs. van e. is notorious for never listening to gossip. she prides herself on 'being above it'. very silly, i think. because one can make such awful 'gaffs' if one doesn't know the seamy side of things."

"no wonder the duchess is late!" cried mrs. sam. "she has probably had to go home between the meeting and here to faint or have a fit."

nobody could help laughing, and nobody tried to help it. there was a weekly paper in new york—a paper called the inner circle. this publication one got one's maid to buy and hide under a pile of books until it could be read. the moment all its paragraphs had been absorbed the paper was destroyed, thus making it possible to say, "the inner circle! i wouldn't give the wretched rag houseroom!" the inside middle pages of the "rag" were headed "let's whisper!" and at the time of the phayre-claremanagh marriage, two months ago, the choicest whispering had concerned the duke's flirtation with lyda pavoya.

"it is easier to break off a flirtation than an engagement, because you can't be sued for breach of promise," was one mot of "the whisperer," and it was intimated that the duke had profited by this immunity when he proposed to miss phayre. "but what about the pearls?" was a question which no one had forgotten, and for which everyone wanted an answer. oh, yes, it would be a rich joke if mrs. van esten proposed pavoya for a "star turn" at the armenian charity entertainment!

"if it's true," said nat, "juliet couldn't very well refuse her consent to have pavoya. that would make things worse. as it is, none of us could help noticing how she has kept the duke away from every single opera where pavoya has danced. not once has he or she been in their box on a pavoya night. but——"

the company hung on the word, as nat drew in her breath, and paused for effect. never were they to know, however, what revelation was to follow that "but," for at this instant mrs. lowndes' butler announced "the duchess of claremanagh," and left out the preface of "her grace."

his omission upset the hostess so much that she stammered over her greeting, and forgot what she had read in a book called "english etiquette" about introducing a duchess. juliet claremanagh was so contrite for her own guilt, however, that she had no thought for others' shortcomings.

"oh, i'm dreadfully sorry to be late! do forgive me, everyone!" she cried, like a penitent schoolgirl. "i was kept so long at that meeting, and then i had to dash home for a minute. my husband had made me promise. you see, this is supposed to be a great day for me. the pearls—perhaps you've heard of them?—are due at last!"

"perhaps" they had heard of the pearls! the duchess was forgiven at once. introductions were hastily made. as the party sat down, the guest of honour pulling off her gloves, she went on with her excuses. evidently she was willing to talk of the pearls, so nat ventured an entering wedge.

"emmy wrote me they had to be re-strung," she said. "and that the most skilled pearl-stringer in england wasn't demobilized, or something; so you had to wait." what emmy had really written was, "this is the story they're putting round." but it would be exciting to get juliet's answer, and watch juliet's face.

the duchess was somewhat paler than juliet phayre had been, for she and the duke had made a huge success in new york, and were in such request that they kept appalling hours. but she was rosier than she had ever been as she replied that, yes, she had had to wait. but at last the pearls had been sent. they were on the britannia, in care of a trusted person; and that person had "wirelessed" that he would be at the house by half-past twelve. unluckily, however, the britannia had been delayed outside for a sister ship to leave the dock. she—juliet—had gone home from mrs. van esten's to receive the messenger, with her husband. but the former and pat's trusted man, sent to meet him, had not arrived. she had waited a few minutes, and had then come on in the car to mrs. lowndes'. of course, the auto had been detained for ages, at two or three crossings! it was always like that if one were late! and now she could not be at home when the pearls appeared, for there were engagements, which couldn't be broken, for the whole of the afternoon.

after all, the luncheon was a great success. the duchess atoned for her sins by being "sweet" to everyone, much sweeter than she had troubled herself to be, as a spoiled young girl, with strangers. she was as pleased as a child with the delicious dishes ordered, almost with prayer, by nat; and when she was obliged to go, after coffee and cigarettes, she left behind her a charming impression. mrs. selby-saunders and miss solomon and all the rest made up for their sharp speeches by praising the bride's beauty and exquisite clothes.

"she's much prettier than she used to be," generously said nat (who had never seen juliet as miss phayre), "and the duke must be a fool if he likes lyda pavoya better. if he neglects his wife, she won't have any trouble finding someone else who won't."

"what about that cousin of hers, jack manners, who used to be in love with her when she was almost a child?—a nephew of her mother's," asked mrs. selby-saunders. "an awfully nice fellow! she ought to have married him. they say he volunteered before america joined the allies, because she refused him——"

"he's in france still," nat supplied the information eagerly. "my sister-in-law, lady west, met him there——"

"i saw in some newspaper that he was to sail for home on the britannia" said miss solomon. "perhaps he is the messenger bringing the pearls!"