That he was very anxious to
take her was certain. The green brougham had already been often
enough at the door in Park Lane to make his Grace feel that Madame
Goesler's company was very desirable,--was, perhaps, of all things
left for his enjoyment, the one thing the most desirable. Lady
Glencora had spoken to her husband of children crying for the top
brick of the chimney. Now it had come to this, that in the eyes
of the Duke of Omnium Marie Max Goesler was the top brick of the
chimney. She had more wit for him than other women,--more of that
sort of wit which he was capable of enjoying. She had a beauty which
he had learned to think more alluring than other beauty. He was sick
of fair faces, and fat arms, and free necks. Madame Goesler's eyes
sparkled as other eyes did not sparkle, and there was something
of the vagueness of mystery in the very blackness and gloss and
abundance of her hair,--as though her beauty was the beauty of some
world which he had not yet known. And there was a quickness and yet
a grace of motion about her which was quite new to him. The ladies
upon whom the Duke had of late most often smiled had been somewhat
slow,--perhaps almost heavy,--though, no doubt, graceful withal. In
his early youth he remembered to have seen, somewhere in Greece, such
a houri as was this Madame Goesler.
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