as my forced meeting with the Duke of Cimicifugas. (There can be no
harm in my telling the incident, so long as I do not give the right
names, which are very well known to fame.) The Duchess of
Cimicifugas, who is charming, unaffected, and lovable, so report
says, has among her chosen friends an untitled woman whom we will
call Mrs. Apis Mellifica. I met her only daughter, Hilda, in
America, and we became quite intimate. It seems that Mrs. Apis
Mellifica, who has an income of 20,000 pounds a year, often
exchanges presents with the duchess, and at this time she had
brought with her from the Continent some rare old tapestries with
which to adorn a new morning-room at Cimicifugas House. These
tapestries were to be hung during the absence of the duchess in
Homburg, and were to greet her as a birthday surprise on her return.
Hilda Mellifica, who is one of the most talented amateur artists in
London, and who has exquisite taste in all matters of decoration,
was to go down to the ducal residence to inspect the work, and she
obtained permission from Lady Veratrum (the confidential companion
of the duchess) to bring me with her. I started on this journey to
the country with all possible delight, little surmising the agonies
that lay in store for me in the mercifully hidden future.

The tapestries were perfect, and Lady Veratrum was most amiable and
affable, though the blue blood of the Belladonnas courses in her
veins, and her great-grandfather was the celebrated Earl of Rhus
Tox, who rendered such notable service to his sovereign. We roamed
through the splendid apartments, inspected the superb picture-
gallery, where scores of dead-and-gone Cimicifugases (most of them
very plain) were glorified by the art of Van Dyck, Sir Joshua, or
Gainsborough, and admired the priceless collections of marbles and
cameos and bronzes. It was about four o'clock when we were