Whereupon the rumors of Mrs.De Peyster's previously gossiped-of marriage with the now notorious Duke were revived--by the subtle instigation, and as an act of social warfare, so Mrs.De Peyster believed, of her aspiring rival, Mrs.Allistair.And there was one faint rumor, still daringly breathed around, that the Duke had proposed--had been accepted--had run away: in blunt terms, had jilted Mrs.De Peyster.
"We will not speak of this again, Olivetta," Mrs.De Peyster remarked with returning dignity, "but while the matter is up, I will mention that the Duke did propose to me, and that I refused him." With a gesture she silenced any comment from Olivetta.

In a breath or two she was entirely her usual poiseful self.

Too many generations had her blood been trained to ways of dignity, and too long had she herself been drilled in composure and self-esteem and in a perfect confidence in the thing that she was, for an invasion of newspaper creatures to disturb her for longer than a few moments.
She was moving with stately tread toward the dining-room when Matilda came hurrying up from the nether regions of the house.

"Did you know, ma'am," Matilda fluttered eagerly, "that Mr.Jack is home ?" "My son back!" There was vast relief in Mrs.De Peyster's voice.

"When did he come ?" "A few minutes ago." "Did--did he say anything ?" "I haven't seen him, ma'am.