CHAPTER IV.
THE DUCHESS HAS AN IDEA Pollyooly heaved a sigh as the studio trembled to the shock of the banged front door, a sigh chiefly of relief, but tinged also with a faint regret that she had not seen Mr.Reginald Butterwick torn limb from limb.

She knew that she would not really have enjoyed the sight; and the mess in the cleaned studio would have been exceedingly annoying; but there were primitive depths in her heart, and somewhere in them was the regret that she had missed the thrilling spectacle.
The studio still quivered to the bang, the sigh still trembled on Pollyooly's lip, when the bedroom door opened, and Hilary Vance came forth with an immense scowl on his spacious face and said fiercely: "So the scoundrel's gone, has he ?" "Yes.

When I told him how big you were, he didn't seem so eager to fight.

And he went away," said Pollyooly quickly.

"But he told me to tell you that you hadn't seen the last of him--not by a long chalk." Her host's scowl lightened a little; there was almost a faint satisfaction on his face as he said: "So he fears my rivalry still, does he ?" Then his face grew gloomier than ever; and he added: "There's no need.