But Lady Glencora, though she was so charming, had even in this, her first outset upon the world, given great uneasiness to her friends, and caused the Marquis of Auldreekie to be almost wild with dismay.  There was a terribly handsome man about town, who had spent every shilling that anybody would give him, who was very fond of brandy, who was known, but not trusted, at Newmarket, who was said to be deep in every vice, whose father would not speak to him;—­and with him the Lady Glencora was never tired of dancing.  One morning she had told her cousin the marquis, with a flashing eye,—­for the round blue eye could flash,—­that Burgo Fitzgerald was more sinned against than sinning.  Ah me! what was a guardian marquis, anxious for the fate of the family property, to do under such circumstances as that?

But before the end of the season the marquis and the duke were both happy men, and we will hope that the Lady Glencora also was satisfied.  Mr Plantagenet Palliser had danced with her twice, and had spoken his mind.  He had an interview with the marquis, which was preeminently satisfactory, and everything was settled.  Glencora no doubt told him how she had accepted that plain gold ring from Burgo Fitzgerald, and how she had restored it; but I doubt whether she ever told him of that wavy lock of golden hair which Burgo still keeps in his receptacle for such treasures.

“Plantagenet,” said the duke, with quite unaccustomed warmth, “in this, as in all things, you have shown yourself to be everything that I could desire.  I have told the marquis that Matching Priory, with the whole estate, should be given over to you at once.  It is the most comfortable country-house I know.  Glencora shall have The Horns as her wedding present.”

But the genial, frank delight of Mr Fothergill pleased Mr Palliser the most.  The heir of the Pallisers had done his duty, and Mr Fothergill was unfeignedly a happy man.

CHAPTER LVI

Showing How Mr Crosbie Became Again a Happy Man

It has been told in the last chapter how Lady de Courcy gave a great party in London in the latter days of April, and it may therefore be thought that things were going well with the de Courcys; but I fear the inference would be untrue.  At any rate, things were not going well with Lady Alexandrina, for she, on her mother’s first arrival in town, had rushed to Portman Square with a long tale of her sufferings.

“Oh, mamma! you would not believe it; but he hardly ever speaks to me.”

“My dear, there are worse faults in a man than that.”

“I am alone there all the day.  I never get out.  He never offers to get me a carriage.  He asked me to walk with him once last week, when it was raining.  I saw that he waited till the rain began.  Only think, I have not been out three evenings this month,—­except to Amelia’s; and now he says he won’t go there any more, because a fly is so expensive.  You can’t believe how uncomfortable the house is.”