“Nay! nay!” he cried; “I rang their Graces’ wedding peal—­I rang my lord Marquess into the world, and will give him up to none until I am a dead man.”

At the Tower there was high feasting, the apartments being filled with guests from foreign Courts as well as from the English one, and as the young hero of the day moved among them, and among the tenantry rejoicing with waving flags and rural games in the park, as he danced with lovely ladies in the ball-room, and as he made his maiden speech to the people, who went wild with joy over him, all agreed that a noble house having such an heir need not fear for its future renown, howsoever glorious its history might have been in the past.

After he had been presented at Court there seemed nothing this young man might not have asked for with the prospect of getting—­a place near the King, a regiment to lead to glory, the hand of the fairest beauty of the greatest fortune and rank.  But it seemed that he wanted nothing, for he made no request for any favour which might have brought him place or power or love.  The great events at that time disturbing the nation he observed with an interest grave and thoughtful beyond his years.  Men who were deep in the problems of statesmanship were amazed to discover the seriousness of his views and the amount of reflection he had given to public questions.  Beauties who paraded themselves before him to attract his heart and eye—­even sweetly tender ones who blushed when he approached them and sighed when he made his obeisance and retired—­all were treated with a like courtesy and grace of manner, but he gave none more reason to sigh and blush, to ogle and languish, than another, the honest truth being that he did not fall in love, despite his youth and the warmth of his nature, not having yet beheld the beauty who could blot out all others for him and reign alone.

“I will not play with love,” he said to his mother once as they talked intimately to each other.  “I have thought of it—­that which should come to a man and be himself, not a part of his being but the very life of him.  If it comes not, a man must go unsatisfied to his grave.  If it comes—­You know,” he said, and turned and kissed her hand impulsively, “It came to my father and to you.”

“Pray Heaven it may come to you, dear one,” she said; “you would know bliss then.”

“Yes,” he answered, “I should know rapture that would make life Heaven.  I do not know what it is I wait for—­but when I see it in some woman’s eyes I shall know, and so will she.”

His mother kissed his ringed hair, smiling softly.

“Till then you wait and think of other things.”

“There are so many things for a man to do,” he said, “if he would not sit idle.  But when that comes it will be first and greatest of all.”