than he knew any one else in the world. She became the absorbing
subject of his thoughts, the heroine of his dreams. She
became, in fact, the supreme influence of his life."

The Duchessa's eyes had not lost their intentness, while he was
speaking. Now that he had finished, she looked down at her
hands, folded in her lap, and mused for a moment in silence.
At last she looked up again.

"It's as strange as anything I have ever heard," she said,
"it's furiously strange--and romantic--and interesting. But
--but--" She frowned a little, hesitating between a choice of
questions.

"Oh, it's a story all compact of 'buts,'" Peter threw out
laughing.

She let the remark pass her--she had settled upon her question.

"But how could he endure such a situation?" she asked. "How
could he sit still under it? Did n't he try in any way--did
n't he make any effort at all--to--to find her out--to discover
who she was--to get introduced to her? I should think he could
never have rested--I should think he would have moved heaven
and earth."

"What could he do? Tell me a single thing he could have done,"
said Peter. "Society has made no provision for a case like
his. It 's absurd--but there it is. You see a woman
somewhere; you long to make her acquaintance; and there's no