‘What I have seen of her personally recommends her to me,’ said the Duke.  ‘Some girls are fools—­’

‘That’s quite true, sir.’

’Who think that the world is to be nothing but dancing, and going to parties.’

‘Many have been doing it for many years,’ said Silverbridge, ’that they can’t understand that there should be an end of it.’

’A wife ought to feel the great responsibility of her position.  I hope she will.’

‘And the sooner she begins the better,’ said Silverbridge stoutly.

‘And now,’ said the Duke, looking at his watch, ’we might as well have lunch and go down to the House.  I will walk with you if you please.  It will be about time for each of us.’  Then the son was forced to go down and see a somewhat faded ceremony of seeing Parliament opened by three Lords sitting in commission before the throne.  Whereas but for such stress as his father had laid upon him, he would have disregarded his parliamentary duties and have rushed at once up to Brook Street.  As it was he was so handed over from one political pundit to another, was so buttonholed by Sir Timothy, so chaffed as to the address by Phineas Finn, and at last so occupied with the whole matter that he was compelled to sit in his place till he had heard Nidderdale make his speech.  This the young Scotch Lord did so well, and received so much praise for the doing of it, and looked so well in his uniform, that Silverbridge almost regretted the opportunity that he had lost.  At seven the sitting was over, the speeches, though full of interest, having been shorter than usual.  They had been full of interest, but nobody understood in the least what was going to happen.  ’I don’t know anything about the Prime Minister,’ said Mr Lupton as he left the House with our hero and another not very staunch supporter of the Government, ’but I’ll back Sir Timothy to be the Leader of the House on the last day of the session, against all comers.  I don’t think it much matters who is Prime Minister nowadays.’

At half-past seven Silverbridge was at the door at Brook Street.  Yes; Miss Boncassen was at home.  The servant thought that she was upstairs dressing.  Then Silverbridge made his way without further invitation into the drawing-room.  There he remained alone for ten minutes.  At last the door opened, and Mrs Boncassen entered.  ’Dear!  Lord Silverbridge, who ever dreamed of seeing you?  I thought all you Parliament gentlemen were going through your ceremonies.  Isabel had a ticket and went down, and saw your father.’

‘Where is Isabel?’

‘She’s gone.’

‘Gone!  Where on earth has she gone to?’ asked Silverbridge, as though fearing lest she had been already carried off to the other side of the Atlantic.  Then Mrs Boncassen explained.  Within the last three minutes Mrs Montacute Jones had called and carried Isabel off to the play.  Mrs Jones was up in town for a week and this had been a very old engagement.  ’I hope you did not want her particularly,’ said Mrs Boncassen.