‘It is my duty,’ said Lady Arabella, repeating her words with even a stronger De Courcy intonation; ‘and your duty also, Dr Thorne.’

‘My duty!’ said he, rising from his chair and leaning on the table with the two thigh-bones.  ’Lady Arabella, pray understand at once, that I repudiate any such duty, and will have nothing whatever to do with it.’

’But you do not mean to say that you will encourage this unfortunate boy to marry your niece?’

’The unfortunate boy, Lady Arabella—­whom, by the by, I regard as a very fortunate young man—­is your son, not mine.  I shall take no steps about his marriage, either one way or the other.’

’You think it right, then, that your niece should throw herself in his way?’

’Throw herself in his way!  What would you say if I came up to Greshamsbury, and spoke of your daughters in such language?  What would my dear friend, Mr Gresham say, if some neighbour’s wife should come and so speak to him?  I will tell you what he would say:  he would quietly beg her to go back to her own home and meddle only with her own matters.’

This was dreadful to Lady Arabella.  Even Dr Thorne had never before dared thus to lower her to the level of common humanity, and liken her to any other wife in the country-side.  Moreover, she was not quite sure whether he, the parish doctor, was not desiring her, the earl’s daughter, to go home and mind her own business.  On this first point, however, there seemed to be no room for doubt, of which she gave herself the benefit.

‘It would not become me to argue with you, Dr Thorne,’ she said.

‘Not at least on this subject,’ said he.

’I can only repeat that I mean nothing offensive to our dear Mary; for whom, I think I may say, I have always shown almost a mother’s care.’

’Neither am I, nor is Mary, ungrateful for the kindness she has received at Greshamsbury.’

’But I must do my duty:  my own children must be my first consideration.’

‘Of course they must, Lady Arabella; that’s of course.’

’And, therefore, I have called on you to say that I think it is imprudent that Beatrice and Mary should be so much together.’

The doctor had been standing during the latter part of this conversation, but now he began to walk about, still holding the two bones like a pair of dumb-bells.

‘God bless my soul!’ he said; ’God bless my soul!  Why, Lady Arabella, do you suspect your own daughter as well as your own son?  Do you think that Beatrice is assisting Mary in preparing this wicked clandestine marriage?  I tell you fairly, Lady Arabella, the present tone of your mind is such that I cannot understand it.’

‘I suspect nobody, Dr Thorne; but young people will be young.’

’And old people must be old, I suppose; the more’s the pity.  Lady Arabella, Mary is the same to me as my own daughter, and owes me the obedience of a child; but as I do not disapprove of your daughter Beatrice as an acquaintance for her, but rather, on the other hand, regard with pleasure their friendship, you cannot expect that I should take any steps to put an end to it.’