THE CHRONICLE OF THE BLUE-EYED SYNDICATE
First published in The London Magazine, Vol. XV, No. 86, Sep 1905, pp 153-165
Collected in Paul the Sage, Ward Lock& Co, London, 1910
CHAPTER I. — THE BLUE-EYED SYNDICATE
"I DON'T make a point of it," the Duke said,"but as a matter of fact, I have been waiting nearly five minutes."
"That is precisely what the Prince of —— said yesterday," Beggarstaff replied genially."But won't your Grace sit down?"
The Duke of Rotherfield declined the proffered invitation. He stood up against the background with the strange, weird resemblance to an elderly stork after a night of unwonted dissipation. His long face and drooping whiskers might have passed him almost perilously for a retired undertaker; but this unhappy suspicion was somewhat tempered by a pair of gold-rimmed eye-glasses and linen of the most immaculate kind. As for the rest, his wardrobe would have fetched no more than a few shillings in Soho. Beggarstaff took in all these details with a flashing eye.
"Really, your Grace,"we should get on a great deal better if you sat down," he said."I take it that you have come to consult me professionally?"
The Duke was not quite prepared to admit that. His manner was official, not to say extra-Parliamentary.
"But you owe me a great deal more than you seem to be aware of," Paul murmured."That little affair of the ball programme, for instance. I have no wish to violate the sanctity of the domestic hearth, but you must admit that that little matter was awkward."
His Grace of Rotherfield fell into a reverie and one of the big saddle-bag armchairs simultaneously; then he caught Beggarstaff's eye and blushed ingenuously. The blush of a duke is a rare and precious thing.
"Upon my word, it was no fault of mine," he said eagerly."I was dining with my old regiment, you see. It was an outrage, a positive outrage, for someone to have slipped that programme into my pocket—a programme of some smoking concert dance.... Naturally her Grace was a little inclined to—er—"
"Of course," Paul said with great sympathy."I was glad to be the means of smoothing matters."
There was a florid flush on the face of the Duke; he had lost a considerable portion of his large, departmental manner, In a less illustrious personage one might say that he was fairly gaping at Beggarstaff.<