"A hospital nurse?" the Duke murmured.

"No, Zuleika's appointed task is to induce delightful wonder rather
than to alleviate pain. She performs conjuring-tricks."

"Not--not Miss Zuleika Dobson?" cried the Duke.

"Ah yes. I forgot that she had achieved some fame in the outer world.
Perhaps she has already met you?"

"Never," said the young man coldly. "But of course I have heard of
Miss Dobson. I did not know she was related to you."

The Duke had an intense horror of unmarried girls. All his vacations
were spent in eluding them and their chaperons. That he should be
confronted with one of them--with such an one of them!--in Oxford,
seemed to him sheer violation of sanctuary. The tone, therefore, in
which he said "I shall be charmed," in answer to the Warden's request
that he would take Zuleika into dinner, was very glacial. So was his
gaze when, a moment later, the young lady made her entry.

"She did not look like an orphan," said the wife of the Oriel don,
subsequently, on the way home. The criticism was a just one. Zuleika
would have looked singular in one of those lowly double-files of
straw-bonnets and drab cloaks which are so steadying a feature of our
social system. Tall and lissom, she was sheathed from the bosom
downwards in flamingo silk, and she was liberally festooned with
emeralds. Her dark hair was not even strained back from her forehead
and behind her ears, as an orphan's should be. Parted somewhere at the
side, it fell in an avalanche of curls upon one eyebrow. From her