‘I am sure everybody would like her,’ said Silverbridge.

‘I like her.  I like her very much.’

‘I am so glad.’

’But still all this is a sorrow to me.  When however he put that question to me about the world around her,—­as to those among whom her lot would be cast, I could not say I thought she would be rejected.’

‘Oh no!’ The idea of rejecting Isabel.

‘She has a brightness and a grace all her own,’ continued the Duke, ‘which will ensure her acceptance in all societies.’

‘Yes, yes;—­it is just that, sir.’

‘You will be a nine days’ wonder,—­the foolish thing young nobleman who chose to marry an American.’

‘I think it will be just other way up, sir—­among the men.’

’But her place will I think be secure to her.  That is what I told Mr Boncassen.’

‘It is all right with him, then,—­now?’

’If you call it all right.  You will understand of course that you are acting in opposition to my advice,—­and my wishes.’

‘What am I to say, sir?’ exclaimed Silverbridge, almost in despair.  ’When I love the girl better than my life, and when you tell me that she can be mine if I choose to take her; when I have asked her to be my wife, and have got her to say that she likes me, when her father has given way, and all the rest of it, would it be possible that I should say now that I will give her up?’

‘My opinion is to go for nothing,—­in anything?’ The Duke as he said this knew that he was expressing aloud a feeling which should have been restrained within his own bosom.  It was natural that there should have been such plaints.  The same suffering must be encountered in regard to Tregear and his daughter.  In every way he had been thwarted.  In every direction he was driven to yield.  And yet now he had to undergo rebuke from his own son, because one of the inward plaints would force itself from his lips!  Of course this girl was to be taken among the Pallisers and treated with an idolatrous love,—­as perfect as though ’all the blood of all the Howards’ were running in her veins.  What further inch of ground was there for a fight?  And if the fight were over, why should he rob his boy of one sparkle from the joy of his triumph?  Silverbridge was now standing before him abashed by that plaint, inwardly sustained no doubt by the conviction of his great success, but subdued by his father’s wailing.  ’However,—­perhaps we had better let that pass,’ said the Duke, with a long sigh.  Then Silverbridge took his father’s hand, and looked up in his face.  ’I most sincerely hope that she may make you a good and loving wife,’ said the Duke, ’and that she may do her duty by you in that not easy sphere of life to which she will be called.’

‘I am quite sure she will,’ said Silverbridge, whose ideas as to Isabel’s duties were confined at present to a feeling that she would now have to give him kisses without stint.