After this Lady Cantrip did not insist on the interview.  She expressed her regret that things should be as they were,—­explained in sweetly innocent phrases that in a certain rank of life young ladies could not always marry the gentlemen to whom their fancies might attach them, but must, not infrequently, postpone their youthful inclinations to the will of their elders,—­or in less delicate language, that though they might love in one direction the must marry in another; and then expressed a hope that her dear Mary would think over these things and try to please her father.  ‘Why does he not try to please me?’ said Mary.  Then Lady Cantrip was obliged to see Lord Popplecourt, a necessity which was a great nuisance to her.  ’Yes;—­she understands what you mean.  But she is not prepared for it yet.  You must wait awhile.’

‘I don’t see why I am to wait.’

’She is very young,—­and so are you, indeed.  There is plenty of time.’

‘There is somebody else I suppose.’

‘Is it that Tregear?’

‘I am not prepared to mention names,’ said Lady Cantrip, astonished that he should know so much.  ’But indeed you must wait.’

‘I don’t see it, Lady Cantrip.’

’What can I say more?  If you think that such a girl as Lady Mary Palliser, the daughter of the Duke of Omnium, possessed of fortune, beauty, and every good gift, is to come like a bird to your call, you will find yourself mistaken.  All that her friends can do for you will be done.  The rest must remain with yourself.’  During that evening Lord Popplecourt endeavoured to make himself pleasant to one of the FitzHoward young ladies, and on the next morning he took his leave of Custins.

’I will never interfere again in reference to anybody else’s child as long as I live,’ Lady Cantrip said to her husband that night.

Lady Mary was very much tempted to open her heart to Miss Boncassen.  It would be delightful to have a friend; but were she to engage Miss Boncassen’s sympathies on her behalf, she must of course sympathise with Miss Boncassen in return.  And what if, after all, Silverbridge were not devoted to the American beauty!  What if it should turn out that he was going to marry Lady Mabel Grex?  ‘I wish you would call me Isabel,’ her friend said to her.  ’It is so odd,—­since I have left New York I have never heard my name from any lips except father’s and mother’s.’

‘Has not Silverbridge ever called you by your christian-name?’

‘I think not.  I am sure he never has.’  But he had, though it had passed by her at the moment without attention.  ’It all came from him so suddenly.  And yet I expected it.  But it was too sudden for christian-names and pretty talk.  I do not even know what his name is.’

‘Plantagenet,—­but we always call him Silverbridge.’

’Plantagenet is much prettier.  I shall always call him Plantagenet.  But I recall that.  You will not remember that against me?’