"She won't," cried Flora, relieved at the change of tone. "And why do you wish it? She is two years older, of quite dreadful origin--and--well--I don't like her; perhaps my opinion is a little biased." "She is immensely rich, one of the ablest political women in London, and Jack is desperately in love with her." "I cannot picture Jack in extremities about any one, although I don't deny that he has his sentimental seizures. He even made love to me when he was cutting his teeth. But he doesn't need a lot of money, you rank higher than she among the political women, and--well, I believe her to be bad-tempered, and more selfish than any woman I have ever known." "He loves her. He wants her. He would dominate any woman he married. He is such a dear that no woman who lived with him could help loving him. Moreover, she is inordinately ambitious, and Jack's career is the most promising in England." "Jack is far too good for her, and I am glad that he will not get her. I happen to know that she has made up her mind to marry Lord Brathland." "Bratty is a donkey." "She would be the last to deny it, but he is certain to be a duke if he lives, and she would marry a man that had to be led round with a string for the sake of being called 'your grace' by the servants. She'll never be anything but a third-rate duchess, and people that tolerate her now will snub her the moment she gives herself airs. But I suppose she thinks a duchess is a duchess." "Money goes pretty far with us," said Lady Victoria, dryly. "Doesn't it? Nevertheless--you know it as well as I do--among the people that really count other things go further, and duchesses have been put in their place before this--you have done it yourself. Julia Kaye has kept her head so far because she has been hunting for strawberry leaves, and there is no denying she's clever; but once she is in the upper air--well, I have seen her as rude as she dares be, and if she became a duchess she would cultivate rudeness as part of the role." "We can be rude enough." "Yes, and know how to be. A parvenu never does." "She is astonishingly clever." "Duchesses are born--even the American ones. Julia Kaye has never succeeded in being quite natural; she has always the effect of rehearsing the part of the great lady for amateur theatricals. Poor Gussy Kaye might have coached her better. The moment she mounts she'll become wholly artificial, she'll patronize, she'll give herself no end of ridiculous airs; she won't move without sending a paragraph to the _Morning Post_. The back of her head will be quite in line with her charming little bust, and I for one shall walk round and laugh in her face. She is the only person that could inspire me to such a vicious speech, but I am human, and as she so ingenuously snubs me as a person of no consequence, my undazzled eyes see her as she is."