Thrice within the next three weeks did Lord Silverbridge go forth to ask Mabel to be his wife, but thrice in vain. On one occasion she would talk on other things. On the second Miss Cassewary would not leave her. On the third the conversation turned in a very disagreeable way on Miss Boncassen, as to whom Lord Silverbridge could not but think that Lady Mabel said some very ill-natured things. It was no doubt true that he, during the last three weeks, had often been in Miss Boncassen's company, that he had danced with her, ridden with her, taken her to the House of Lords and the House of Commons, and was now engaged to attend upon her at a river-party up above Maidenhead. But Mabel had certainly no right to complain. Had he not thrice during the same period come there to lay the coronet at her feet;--and now, at this very moment, was it not her fault that he was not going through the ceremony?
'I suppose,' she said, laughing, 'that it is all settled.'
'What is all settled?'
'About you and the American beauty.'
'I am not aware that anything in particular has been settled.'
'Then it ought to be,--oughtn't it? For her sake, I mean.'
'That is so like an English woman,' said Lord Silverbridge.
'Because you cannot understand a manner of life a little different from your own you will impute evil.'
'I have imputed no evil, Lord Silverbridge, and you have no right to say so.'
'If you mean to assert,' said Miss Cass, 'that the manners of American young ladies are freer than those of English young ladies, it is you that are taking away their characters.'
'I don't say it would be at all bad,' continued Lady Mabel. 'She is a beautiful girl, and very clever, and would make a charming Duchess. And then it would be such a delicious change to have an American Duchess.'
'She wouldn't be a Duchess.'
'Well, Countess, with Duchessship before her in the remote future.
Wouldn't it be a change, Miss Cass?'
'Oh decidedly!' said Miss Cass.
'And very much for the better. Quite a case of new blood, you know. Pray don't suppose that I mean to object. Everybody who talks about it approves. I haven't heard a single dissentient voice. Only as it has gone so far, and English people are too stupid you know to understand all these new ways,--don't you think perhaps-?'
'No, I don't think. I don't think anything except that you are very ill-natured.' Then he got up and, after ****** formal adieux to both the ladies, left the house.
As soon as he was gone Lady Mabel began to laugh, but the least apprehensive ears would have perceived that the laughter was affected. Miss Cassewary did not laugh at all, but sat bolt upright and looked very serious. 'Upon my honour,' said the younger lady, 'he is the most beautifully ******-minded human being I ever knew in my life.'
'Then I wouldn't laugh at him.'
'How can one help it? But of course I do it with a purpose.'
'What purpose?'
'I think he is ****** a fool of himself. If somebody does not interfere he will go so far that he will not be able to draw back without misbehaving.'
'I thought,' said Miss Cassewary, in a very low voice, almost whispering. 'I thought that he was looking for a wife elsewhere.'
'You need not think of it again,' said Lady Mab, jumping up from her seat. 'I had thought of it too. But as I told you before, I spared him. He did not really mean it with me;--nor does he mean it with this American girl. Such young men seldom mean. They drift into matrimony. But she will not spare him. It would be a national triumph. All the States would sing a paean of glory. Fancy a New York belle having compassed a Duke!'
'I don't think it possible. It would be too horrid.'
'I think it is quite possible. As for me, I could teach myself to think it best as it as, were I not so sure that I should be better for him than to many others. But I shouldn't love him.'
'Why not love him?'
'He is such a boy. I should always treat him like a boy,--spoiling him and petting him, but never respecting him. Don't run away with any idea that I should refuse him from conscientious motives, if he were really to ask me. I too should like to be a Duchess. I should like to bring all this misery at home to an end.'
'But you did refuse him.'
'Not exactly;--because he never asked me. For the moment I was weak, and so I let have another chance. I shall not have been a good friend to him if it ends in his marrying this Yankee.'
Lord Silverbridge went out of the house in a very ill humour,--which however left him when in the course of the afternoon he found himself up at Maidenhead with Miss Boncassen. Miss Boncassen at any rate did not laugh at him. And then she was so pleasant, so full of common sense, and so completely intelligent! 'I like you,' she said, 'because I feel that you will not think that you ought to make love to me. There is nothing I hate so much as the idea that a young man and a young woman can't be acquainted with each other without some tomfoolery as that.' This had exactly expressed his own feeling. Nothing could be so pleasant as his intimacy with Isabel Boncassen.
Mrs Boncassen seemed to be a homely person, with no desire either to speak, or to be spoken to. She went out but seldom, and on those rare occasions did not in any way interfere with her daughter. Mr Boncassen filled a prouder situation. Everybody knew that Miss Boncassen was in England because it suited Mr Boncassen to spend many hours in the British Museum. But still the daughter hardly seemed to be under control from her father. She went alone where she liked; talked to those she liked; and did what she liked. Some of the young ladies of the day thought that there was a good deal to be said in favour of the ******* which she enjoyed.
