382 A MODERN COMEDY
but I've got some mighty nice darkies that can cook fine
—old folk that knew my grannies. The old-time darky
is getting scarce, but he's the real thing."
A Southerner!
Soames had been told that the Southerner was a gentle-
man. He remembered the ' Alabama,' too ; and his father,
James, saying : " I told you so " when the Government
ate humble pie over that business.
In the savoury silence that accompanied soft roes on
toast, the patter of the Dandie's feet on the parquet floor
could be plainly heard.
" This is the only thing he likes," said Fleur. " Dan !
go to your master. Give him a little bit, Michael." And
she stole a look at Michael, but he did not answer it.
On their Italian holiday, with Fleur in the throes of
novelty, sun and wine warmed, disposed to junketing,
amenable to his caresses, he had been having his real
honeymoon, enjoying, for the first time since his marriage,
a sense of being the chosen companion of his adored. And
now had come this stranger, bringing reminder that one
played but second fiddle to that young second cousin and
first lover ; and he couldn't help feeling the cup withdrawn
again from his lips. She had invited this young man
because he came from that past of hers whose tune one
could not play. And, without looking up, he fed the
Dandie with tid-bits of his favourite edible.
Soames broke the silence.
"Take some nutmeg, Mr. Wilmot. Melon without
nutmeg------" . . .
When Fleur rose, Soames followed her to the drawing-
room ; while Michael led the young American to his study.
" You knew Jon f " said Francis Wilmot.
" No ; I never met him."