’I shall never stay with him again.  But all that, Mr Tregear, is of no matter.  I do not mean to say a word against him;—­not a word.  But if you wish to interest any one as being the Duke’s friend, then I can assure you that I am the last person in London to whom you should come.  I know no one to whom the Duke is likely to entertain any feelings so little kind towards me.’  This she said in a peculiarly solemn way that startled Tregear.  But before he could answer her a servant entered the room with a letter.  She recognised at once the Duke’s handwriting.  Here was the answer for which she had been so long waiting in silent expectation!  She could not keep it unread till he was gone.  ’Will you allow me a moment,’ she whispered, and then she opened the envelope.  As she read the few words her eyes became laden with tears.  They quite sufficed to relieve the injured pride which had sat so heavy at her heart.  ’I believe I did you a wrong, and therefore I ask you your pardon!’ It was so like what she had believed the man to be!  She could not be longer angry with him.  And yet the very last words she had spoken were words complaining of his conduct.  ’This is from the Duke,’ she said, putting the letter back into its envelope.

‘Oh, indeed.’

‘It is odd that it should have come while you were here.’

‘Is it,—­is it,—­about Lady Mary?’

’No;—­at least,—­not directly.  I perhaps spoke more harshly about him than I should have done.  The truth is I had expected a line from him, and it had not come.  Now it is here; but I do not suppose I shall ever see much of him.  My intimacy was with her.  But I would not wish you to remember what I said just now, if—­if—­’

’If what, Mrs Finn?  You mean perhaps, if I should ever be allowed to call myself his son-in-law.  It may seem to you to be arrogant, but it is an honour which I expect to win.’

‘Faint heart,—­you know, Mr Tregear.’

’Exactly.  One has to tell oneself that very often.  You will help me?’

‘Certainly not,’ she said, as though she were much startled.  ’How can I help you?’

’By telling me what I should do.  I suppose if I were to go down to Richmond I should not be admitted.’

’If you ask me, I think not;—­not to see Lady Mary.  Lady Cantrip would perhaps see you.’

‘She is acting the part of-Duenna.’

’As I should do so, if Lady Mary were staying with me.  You don’t suppose that if she were here I would let her see you in my house without her father’s leave?’

‘I suppose not.’

’Certainly not; and therefore I conceive that Lady Cantrip will not do so either.’

‘I wish she were here.’

‘It would be of no use.  I should be a dragon in guarding her.’

’I wish you would let me feel that you were like a sister to me in this matter.’

’But I am not your sister, nor yet your aunt, nor yet your grandmother.  What I mean is that I cannot be on your side.’