’I think much more of her love, Mr Boncassen, than I do of anything else in the world.’

‘But love, my Lord, may be a great misfortune.’  As he said this the tone of his voice was altered, and there was a melancholy solemnity not only in his words but in his countenance.  ’I take it that young people when they love rarely think of more than the present moment.  If they did so the bloom would be gone from their romance.  But others have to do this for them.  If Isabel had come to me saying that she loved a poor man, there would not have been much to disquiet me.  A poor man may earn bread for himself and his wife, and if he failed I could have found them bread.  Nor had she loved somewhat below her degree, should I have opposed her.  So long as her husband had been an educated man, there might have been no future punishment to fear.’

‘I don’t think she could have done that,’ said Silverbridge.

’At any rate she has not done so.  But how am I to look upon this that she has done?’

‘I’ll do my best for her, Mr Boncassen.’

’I believe you would.  But even your love can’t make her an English-woman.  You can make her a Duchess.’

‘Not that, sir.’

’But you can’t give her a parentage fit for a Duchess;—­not fit at least in the opinion of those with whom you will pass your life, with whom,—­or perhaps without whom,—­she will be destined to pass her life, if she becomes your wife!  Unfortunately it does not suffice that you should think it fit.  Though you loved each other as well as any man and woman that ever were brought into each other’s arms by the beneficence of God, you cannot make her happy,—­unless you can ensure her the respect of those around her.’

‘All the world will respect her.’

’Her conduct;—­yes.  I think the world, your world, would learn to do that.  I do not think it could help itself.  But that would not suffice.  I may respect the man who cleans my boots, but he would be a wretched man if he were thrown on me for society.  I would not give him my society.  Will your Duchesses and Countesses give her theirs?’

‘Certainly they will.’

’I do not ask for it as thinking it to be of more value than that of others; but were she to become your wife she would be so abnormally placed as to require it for her comfort.  She would have become a lady of high rank,—­not because she loves rank, but because she loves you.’

‘Yes, yes, yes,’ said Silverbridge, hardly himself knowing why became impetuous.

’But having removed herself into that position, being as she would be, a Countess, or a Duchess, or what not, how could she be happy if he were excluded from the community of Countesses and Duchesses?’

‘They are not all like that,’ said Silverbridge.