text: CHAPTER XXIII 
  
  A DINNER PARTY 
  
  Phineas Duge in London was still a man of affairs. With a cigar in his mouth, and his hands behind his back, he was strolling about his handsomely furnished sitting-room at Claridge's, dictating to a secretary, while from an adjoining room came the faint click of a typewriter. Virginia entered somewhat unceremoniously, followed by Guy. Phineas Duge looked at them both in some surprise. 
  
  "Uncle," she said, "I met Guy coming away from Coniston Mansions. He was looking for me, and I have brought him to see you." 
  
  Phineas Duge held out his hand, and in obedience to a gesture, the secretary got up and left the room. 
  
  "I am very glad to meet you, sir," he said. "By the by, my niece has only mentioned your first name." 
  
  "I am the Duke of Mowbray," Guy said simply, "and I am very glad indeed to meet you if you are Virginia's uncle. I think that she treated me rather badly a week ago, but I am disposed," he added, with a twinkle in his eyes, "to be forgiving. I want your niece to be my wife, sir." 
  
  "Indeed!" Mr. Duge answered a little drily. "I can't say that I am glad to hear it, as I have only just discovered her myself." 
  
  "There is no reason, sir," Guy answered, "why you should lose her." 
  
  "You don't even know my uncle's name yet," Virginia said, smiling. 
  
  "I am Phineas Duge," Duge answered. "I dare say you have never heard of me. You see, I don't come often to England." 