Almost immediately a man, pale-faced, with full dark eyes and olive complexion, dressed in the sombre garb of an indoor servant, stood at his elbow.
"Duson." "Your Grace!" "Bring wine--Burgundy." It was before him, served with almost incredible despatch--a small cobwebbed bottle and a glass of quaint shape, on which were beautifully emblazoned a coronet and fleur-de-lis.

He drank slowly and deliberately.
When he set the glass down it was empty.
"Duson!" "Your Grace!" "You will pack my things and your own.

We shall leave for New York this evening.

Telegraph to the Holland House for rooms." "For how many days, your Grace ?" "We shall not return here.

Pay off all the servants save two of the most trustworthy, who will remain as caretakers." The man's face was as immovable as his master's.
"And Madame ?" "Madame will not be returning.