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"Royalties may not abdicate," fell as a warning from pretty lips.

"You wish me to defend my throne, then?"

"Yes."

"I give the truths of to-morrow."

"I prefer the mistakes of to-day," she answered.

"You disarm me, Gladys," he cried, catching the wilfulness of her

mood.

"Of your shield, Harry, not of your spear."

"I never tilt against beauty," he said, with a wave of his hand.

"That is your error, Harry, believe me. You value beauty far too

much."

"How can you say that? I admit that I think that it is better to

be beautiful than to be good. But on the other hand, no one is

more ready than I am to acknowledge that it is better to be good

than to be ugly."

"Ugliness is one of the seven deadly sins, then?" cried the

duchess. "What becomes of your simile about the orchid?"

"Ugliness is one of the seven deadly virtues, Gladys. You, as a

good Tory, must not underrate them. Beer, the Bible, and the

seven deadly virtues have made our England what she is."

"You don't like your country, then?" she asked.