‘Oh dear no.  I am very fond of Mabel;—­only not just like that.’

‘Not just like what?’

‘I had better tell the whole truth at once.’

’Certainly tell the truth, Silverbridge.  I cannot say that you are bound in duty to tell the whole truth even to your father in such a matter.’

’But I mean to tell you everything.  Mabel did not seem to care for me much—­in London.  And then I saw someone,—­someone I liked better.’  Then he stopped, but as the Duke did not ask any questions he plunged on.  ‘It was Miss Boncassen.’

‘Miss Boncassen!’

‘Yes sir,’ said Silverbridge, with a little access of decision.

‘The American young lady?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Do you know anything of her family?’

’I think I know all about her family.  It is not much in the way of—­family.’

‘You have not spoken to her about it?’

‘Yes sir;—­I have settled it all with her, on condition—­’

‘Settled it with her that she is to be your wife.’

‘Yes, sir,—­on condition that you will approve.’

’Did you go to her, Silverbridge, with such a stipulation as that?’

‘It was not like that.’

‘How was it then?’

‘She stipulated.  She will marry me if you consent.’

‘It was she then who thought of my wishes and feeling;—­not you?’

’I knew that I loved her.  What is a man to do when he feels like that?  Of course I meant to tell you.’  The Duke was looking very black.  ‘I thought you liked her, sir.’

’Liked her!  I did like her.  I do like her.  What has that to do with it?  Do you think I like none but those with whom I should think it fitting to ally myself in marriage?  Is there to be no duty in such matters, no restraint, no feeling of what is due to your own name, and to others who bear it?  The lad who is out there sweeping the walks can marry the first girl that pleases his eye if she will take him.  Perhaps his lot is the happier because he owns such liberty.  Have you the same freedom?’

‘I suppose I have,—­by law.’

’Do you recognise no duty but what the law imposes upon you?  Should you be disposed to eat in drink in bestial excess, because the laws would not hinder you?  Should you lie and sleep all the day, the law would say nothing!  Should you neglect every duty which your position imposes on you, the law could not interfere!  To such a one as you the law can be no guide.  You should so live as not to come near the law,—­or to have the law come near to you.  From all evil against which the law bars you, you should be barred, at an infinite distance, by honour, by conscience, and nobility.  Does the law require patriotism, philanthropy, self-abnegation, public service, purity of purpose, devotion to the needs of others who have been placed in the world below you?  The law is a great thing,—­because men are poor and weak, and bad.  And it is great, because where it exists in strength, no tyrant can be above it.  But between you and me there should be no mention of law as the guide of conduct.  Speak to me of honour, of duty, and of nobility; and tell me what they require of you.’