"  I  wonder  where  the  devil  she  gets  it  from  ?
He  can't  have  coached  her  in  that."

The  idea  of  the  Duke  rehearsing  her  in  the
possibilities  of  such  a  scene  was  delicious.
"  She  plays  the  game  with  the  old  'un,"  he
reflected,  and  could  not  resist  giving  her  her  share
of  credit  for  it.
So  the  summer  went  by,  and  the  winter  came,
and  the  second  spring,  and  the  third  summer
since  the  miracle  in  Jenny's  life,  and  she  was  nine-
teen and  a  half.  At  times  she  would  remember


i24  JENNY

the  hot  midsummer  nights  in  Dean's  Court  with
the  population  out  upon  the  doorsteps  and  her-
self content  to  chatter  with  some  group  of  boys
and  girls  in  the  shadow  of  the  grimy  wall  that
formed  the  blind  alley.  It  was  surely  a  dream.
It  was  impossible  she  could  have  had  such  a  child-
hood. Why  should  she  have  been  singled  out  for
such  promotion  ?  It  made  her  feel  that  behind
the  ever-changing  comedy  of  life  there  was  an
irresistible  purpose  pulling  the  strings  by  which
the  puppets  were  worked.  Father  Hawthorne
came  down  and  lunched  with  them  sometimes.
He  would  sit  in  the  garden  with  Emma  and  talk
till  it  was  time  for  Jenny  to  give  them  tea.
Exquisitely  gowned,  she  presided  over  a  tea  table
the  equipage  of  which  would  have  bought  up  the
whole  of  Dean's  Court.  He  would  murmur,  "  We
have  not  seen  the  end  of  the  miracle  vet."


CHAPTER    IX

IT  was  August,  and  Jenny  was  undoubtedly  run
down.  She  had  grown  languid,  and  some  of
the  life  and  radiance  had  gone  from  her  eyes.
At  the  first  word  of  the  matter  from  Emma
Goodchild  the  Duke  took  alarm  and  called  in  a
celebrated  specialist.
