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 Senator would join them immediately on landing. The Duke, who was the embodiment of affability, had cordially expressed that wish, she wrote; without, however, mentioning the Duke’s intention of going to Liverpool to meet the Campania.

Senator Sherman read the letter twice, assured himself of the authenticity of the handwriting, examined the postmark, and—made a wry face. It looked as if he had been too hasty in jumping to a conclusion about the young man waiting for him on the hurricane-deck, and he began to regret the curt demeanor he had assumed. He was not quite convinced, however, owing to the absence of any allusion to the Duke meeting him—in itself an extraordinary proceeding. Good republican as he was, the Senator fully appreciated the cleavage of English class distinctions, and he was aware that great nobles do not, as a rule, wait at seaport towns to welcome perfect strangers. It was possible that the depressed individual on deck might, after all, be a criminal who had discovered Mrs. Sherman’s visit to the Duke of Beaumanoir and was turning his knowledge to evil account. Still, though caution was called for, his wife’s letter invested the man’s