As the farmer’s daughter, a buxom young woman, was laying on the table a cottage loaf of newly baked bread, a huge pat of Jersey butter and a comb of honey, Ilitta said with a little laugh,
“If you tell anybody what has happened to us since breakfast yesterday morning, they will not believe you!”
“That is why we must be careful what we do say,” the Duke replied.
She looked at him quickly before she asked,
“Are you going to keep it a secret?”
“I am just considering what would be best.”
He was sitting back in an armchair with a skilfully crocheted antimacassar behind his head, while Ilitta, having discarded her cloak, was seated on the fur hearth rug enjoying the warmth of the fire on her face.
She looked at him for a moment before she said,
“I may be wrong, but I have a feeling you
