The Prince crossed the hall and entered the morning-room.

Felix was there and Raoul de Brouillac.

The Duchess sat at her writing-table, scribbling a note.

Lady Carey, in a wonderful white serge costume, and a huge bunch of Neapolitan violets at her bosom, was lounging in an easy-chair, swinging her foot backwards and forwards.

The Duke, in a very old tweed coat, but immaculate as to linen and the details of his toilet, stood a little apart, with a frown upon his forehead, and exactly that absorbed air which in the House of Lords usually indicated his intention to make a speech.