The Duchess's waist was encircled by his arm. They stared at the intruder in not unjustifiable surprise. Miss Paynter addressed herself to the Duchess.
"I wouldn't go and get ready if I were you."
"What do you mean?" the Duchess replied.
"Why, my dear child, because in real knowledge of this wicked world I believe you're nothing but a child; you're only biting off your nose to spite your face. You're jumping out of the frying-pan into the fire. This gentleman has not the slightest real intention of marriage—have you?"
This frankly-put inquiry seemed somewhat to startle the Earl.
"Really, I—I have not the pleasure."
"Of knowing me? But I know you very well, both by sight and reputation. I assure you, my dear Duchess, that you would be a very foolish woman to trust yourself in the least degree to him."
The Earl of Datchet roused himself to the best of his ability.
"May I ask, Miss Paynter—I believe you are Miss Paynter—what business this is of yours?"
"It is the business of every honest woman—to use the Duchess's very proper phrase—to save other honest women from being ruined and tricked by gentlemen; don't you think it is?" There were voices without "Here is the Duke—just when he is wanted." That distinguished nobleman appeared outside the window. Mrs. Paynter was with him. "Your Grace, prepare to be shocked—to receive a crushing blow. You have been deceived—betrayed—by a friend. Your own friend proposed to elope with your wife by the train which leaves at ten
