My face warmed, though I said nothing.

“Oh, you sly dog!  I’ll warrant there has been many a tender talk just where I’m sitting.”

“Not one,” said I.

“’Slife, then, what have you been doing,” he cries, “seeing her every day and not asking her to marry you, my master of Carvel Hall?”

“Since I am permitted to use my tongue, she has not come near me, save when I slept,” I answered ruefully.

“Nor will she, I’ll be sworn,” says he, shaken with laughter.

“’Ods, have you no invention?  Egad, you must feign sleep, and seize her unawares.”

I did not inform his Lordship how excellent this plan seemed to me.

“And I possessed the love of such a woman, Richard,” he said, in another tone, “I think I should die of happiness.  She will never tell you how these weeks past she has scarce left your side.  The threats combined of her mother and the doctor, and Charles and me, would not induce her to take any sleep.  And time and time have I walked from here to Brook Street without recognizing a step of the way, lifted clear out of myself by the sight of her devotion.”

What was my life, indeed, that such a blessing should come into it!

“When the crash came,” he continued, “’twas she took command, and ’tis God’s pity she had not done so long before.  Mr. Marmaduke was pushed to the bottom of the family, where he belongs, and was given only snuff-money.  She would give him no opportunity to contract another debt, and even charged Charles and me to loan him nothing.  Nor would she receive aught from us, but” (he glanced at me uneasily)—­“but she and Mrs. Manners must take to cooking delicacies—­”

“Yes, yes, I know,” I faltered.

“What! has the puppy told you?” cried he.

I nodded.  “He was in here this morning, with his woes.”

“And did he speak of the bargain he tried to make with our old friend, his Grace of Chartersea?”

“He tried to sell her again?” I cried, my breath catching.  “I have feared as much since I heard of their misfortunes.”

“Yes,” replied Comyn, “that was the first of it.  ’Twas while they were still in Arlington Street, and before Mrs. Manners and Dorothy knew.  Mr. Marmaduke goes posting off to Nottinghamshire, and comes back inside the duke’s own carriage.  And his Grace goes to dine in Arlington Street for the first time in years.  Dorothy had wind of the trouble then, Charles having warned her.  And not a word would she speak to Chartersea the whole of the dinner, nor look to the right or left of her plate.  And when the servants are gone, up gets my lady with a sweep and confronts him.

“‘Will your Grace spare me a minute in the drawing-room?’ says she.

“He blinked at her in vast astonishment, and pushed back his chair.  When she was come to the door, she turns with another sweep on Mr. Marmaduke, who was trotting after.

“‘You will please to remain here, father,’ she said; ’what I am to say is for his Grace’s ear alone.’