The Amateur Gentleman

"What, madam?"

"Oh, dear me, how frightfully dense you are, Barnabas!" she exclaimed,

fumbling in her reticule. "What should it be but a letter, to be

sure--Cleone's letter."

"A letter from Cleone! Oh, Duchess--"

"Here--take it. She wrote it last night--poor child didn't sleep a

wink, I know, and--all on your account, sir. I promised I'd deliver

it for her,--I mean the letter--that's why I made Bamborough bring

me here. So you see I've kept my word as I always do--that

is--sometimes. Oh, dear me, I'm so excited--about the race, I

mean--and Cleone's so nervous--came and woke me long before dawn,

and there were tears on her lashes--I know because I felt 'em when I

kissed them--I mean her eyes. And Patten dressed me in such a hurry

this morning--which was really my fault, and I know my wig's not

straight--and there you stand staring at it as though you wanted

to kiss it--I mean Cleone's letter, not my wig. That ridiculous

Mr. Tressider told Cleone that it was the best course he ever hoped

to ride over--meaning 'the worst' of course, so Cleone's quite

wretched, dear lamb--but oh, Barnabas, it would be dreadful if--

if you were--killed--oh!" And the Duchess shivered and turned away.

"Would you mind? So much, madam?"

"Barnabas--I never had a son--or a daughter--but I think I know just

how--your mother would be feeling--now!"

"And I do not remember my mother!" said Barnabas.

"Poor, poor Joan!" sighed the Duchess, very gently. "Were she here I

think she would--but then she was much taller than I, and--oh, boy,

stoop--stoop down, you great, tall Barnabas--how am I ever to reach

you if you don't?"

Then Barnabas stooped his head, and the Duchess kissed him--even as

his own mother might have done, and so, smiling a little tremulously,

turned away. "There! Barnabas," she sighed. "And now--oh, I know you

are dying to read your letter--of course you are, so pray sir,--go

back and fetch my fan,--here it is, it will serve as an excuse,

while I go on to look at the horses." And with a quick, smiling nod,

she hurried away across the paddock after the others. Then Barnabas

broke the seal of Cleone's letter, and--though to be sure it might

have been longer--he found it all sufficient. Here it is: The Palace Grange,

Eltham,

Midnight.

Ever Dearest,--The race is to-morrow and, because I love you greatly,

so am I greatly afraid for you. And dear, I love you because you are

so strong, and gentle, and honorable. And therefore, here on my knees

I have prayed God to keep you ever in his care, my Barnabas.

CLEONE.