Then Tregear made up his mind that he would write another letter.  Personally he was not in the best condition for doing this as he was lying in bed with his left arm tied up, and with straps and bandages all round his body.  But he could sit up in bed, and his right hand and arm were free.  So he declared to Lady Chiltern his purpose of writing a letter.  She tried to dissuade him gently and offered to be his secretary.  But when he assured her that no secretary could write his letter for him she understood pretty well what would be the subject of the letter.  With considerable difficulty Tregear wrote his letter.

’My lord duke,’—­On this occasion he left out the epithet which he had before used—­

’Your Grace’s reply to my last letter was not encouraging, but in spite of your prohibition I venture to write to you again.  If I had the slightest reason for thinking that your daughter was estranged from me, I would not persecute either you or her.  But if it be true that she is as devoted to me as I am to her, can I be wrong in pleading my case?  Is it not evident to you that she is made of such stuff that she will not be controlled in her choice,—­ even by your will?

’I have had an accident in the hunting-field and an now writing from Lord Chiltern’s house, where I am confined to bed.  But I think you will understand me when I say that even in this helpless condition I feel myself constrained to do something.  Of course I ask for nothing from you on my own behalf,—­but on her behalf may I not add my prayers to hers?

’I have the honour to be,
’Your Grace’s faithful Servant,
‘Francis Tregear.’

This coming alone would perhaps have had no effect.  The Duke had desired the young man not to address him again; and the young man had disobeyed him.  No mere courtesy would now have constrained him to send any reply further to this letter.  But coming as it did while his heart was still throbbing with the effects of Mrs Finn’s words, it was allowed to have a certain force.  The argument was a true argument.  His girl was devoted to the man who sought her hand.  Mrs Finn had told him that sooner or later he must yield,—­ unless he was prepared to see his child wither and fade at his side.  He had once thought that he would be prepared even for that.  He had endeavoured to strengthen his own will by arguing with himself that when he saw a duty plainly before him, he should cleave to that let the results be what they might.  But that picture of her face withered and wan after twenty years of sorrowing had had its effect upon his heart.  He even made excuses within his own breast in the young man’s favour.  He was in Parliament now, and what may not be done for a young man in Parliament?  Altogether the young man appeared to him in a different light from that through which he had viewed the presumptuous, arrogant young suitor who had come to him, now nearly a year since, in Carlton Terrace.