She was on a visit during the autumn of 1888 to a country house In Scotland, and while waiting with her maid on the platform of Carlisle station, she was noticed by the Duke, who was also northward bound for sport on the moors.

The Duke was waiting on the platform too, and was attracted by the perfection of her appearance, her lofty carriage and the expression of the true gentlewoman on her countenance.

A few weeks afterwards an introduction took place at the house of a friend, when they spoke of their recollection of having seen each other on the platform of the railway station.

Although the Duke must have known that he was the most coveted matrimonial prize in England at that time, yet it is said he was shy at proposing to this magnificent daughter of a Lincolnshire squire.

He must have done, however, for in a few months the marriage was celebrated.

Soon after the engagement the Duke bought a sable cloak of immense value for his fiancee; but Mrs. Dallas-Yorke protested against the gift and said that her daughter had not been accustomed to such costly attire.

What was the Duke’s observation upon this has not passed current; suffice it to say that the priceless cloak was received and worn by Miss Dallas-Yorke, who in Society was chaperoned by the Marchioness of Granby, now Duchess of Rutland.

Such a fluttering among Society dove-cotes was seldom seen, and sound of wedding-bells rarely heard with such gleeful joy.  It was a love-match, and, therefore, a popular event all over the land.  Only a few weeks before, the Duke’s horse had won the Derby, and the ovation given him by the racing fraternity was unprecedented to any one, peer or commoner, below royal rank.

Then the bride was so full of smiles to all who had the privilege of offering her congratulations.

The Duke had earned the reputation of being a “good fellow,” a phrase carrying its own meaning in relation to a typical English nobleman.  At the zenith of his popularity there is no wonder that crowds lined the streets on the wedding morning to catch a glimpse of the happy pair as they drove back from Church.  The Prince and Princess of Wales honoured the ceremony with their presence, and such cheering there was as the faces of the bride and bridegroom were seen at the windows of the carriage.  It was a smart equipage, and even the coachmen and footmen were decorated with horse-shoes of flowers on their coats.

Then there were the rejoicings at Welbeck, where the new Duchess soon ingratiated herself with the tenantry.  “The Good Duchess” was smiling and approachable, and quickly found her way to the heart of the most churlish country herdsman.

It was apparent that the Duchess’s mind was not solely occupied with plans for reigning in London Society and dictating the fashions for a select and fastidious circle.  She knew her powers in that respect; she had already conquered and was content to please the Duke, and fulfil the duties of her station towards those who were her equals, and towards the Duke’s retainers on his estates and their dependants.