‘And are you?’

’Not so much as he thinks.  I do go there,—­for his sake.  He has been so good about my changing sides.’

‘I think you were quite right there.’

’I am beginning to think I was quite wrong.  What did it matter to me?’

‘I suppose it did make papa unhappy.’

‘Of course it did;—­and then this affair of yours.’  As soon as this was said Lady Mary at once hardened her heart against her father.  Whether Silverbridge was or was not entitled to his own political opinions,—­seeing that the Pallisers had for ages been known as staunch Whigs and Liberals,—­might be a matter for question.  But that she had a right to her own lover she thought there could be no question.  As they were sitting in the cab he could hardly see her face, but he was aware that she was in some fashion arming herself against opposition.  ’I am sure that this makes him very unhappy,’ continued Silverbridge.

‘It cannot be altered,’ she said.

‘It will have to be altered.’

‘Nothing can alter it.  He might die, indeed;—­or so might I.’

‘Or he might see that it is no good,—­and change his mind,’ suggested Silverbridge.

‘Of course that is possible,’ said Lady Mary very curtly,—­showing plainly by her manner that the subject was one which she did not choose to discuss any further.

‘It is very good of you to come to me,’ said Lady Mabel, kissing her new acquaintance.  ‘I have heard so much about you.’

‘And I also of you.’

’I, you know, am one of your brother’s stern Mentors.  There are three or four of us determined to make him a pattern young legislator.  Miss Cassewary is another.  Only she is not quite so stern as I am.’

‘He ought to be very much obliged.’

‘But he is not;—­not a bit.  Are you, Lord Silverbridge?’

‘Not so much as I ought to be, perhaps.’

’Of course there is an opposing force.  There are the race-horses, and the drag, and Major Tifto.  No doubt you have heard of Major Tifto.  The Major is the Mr Worldly-Wise-man who won’t let Christian go to the Straight Gate.  I am afraid he hasn’t read his Pilgrim’s Progress.  But we shall prevail, Lady Mary, and he will get to the beautiful city at last.’

‘What is the beautiful city?’ he asked.

’A seat in the Cabinet, I suppose;—­or that general respect which a young nobleman achieves when he shows himself able to sit on a bench for six consecutive hours without appearing to go to sleep.’

Then they went to lunch, and Lady Mary found herself to be happy with her new acquaintance.  Her life since her mother’s death had been so sad, that this short escape from it was a relief to her.  Now for awhile she found herself almost gay.  There was an easy liveliness about Lady Mabel,—­a grain of humour and playfulness conjoined,—­which made her feel at home at once.  And it seemed to her as though her brother was at home.  He called the girl Lady Mab, and Queen Mab, and once plain Mabel, and the old woman he called Miss Cass.  It surely, she thought, must be the case that Lady Mabel and her brother were engaged.