Lord Vargrave's brow became thoughtful. "I think so too," he said, after a, short pause; "and I hope you will approve of what I mean to do. You see Lumley was brought up to regard himself as my heir--I owe something to him, beyond the poor estate which goes with, but never can adequately support, /my/ title. Family honours, hereditary rank, must be properly regarded. But that dear girl--I shall leave her the bulk of my fortune. Could we not unite the fortune and the title? It would secure the rank to her, it would incorporate all my desires--all my duties." "But," said Lady Vargrave, with evident surprise, "if I understand you rightly, the disparity of years--" "And what then, what then, Lady Vargrave? Is there no disparity of years between /us/?--a greater disparity than between Lumley and that tall girl. Lumley is a mere youth, a youth still, five-and-thirty; he will be little more than forty when they marry; I was between fifty and sixty when I married you, Lady Vargrave. I don't like boy and girl marriages: a man should be older than his wife. But you are so romantic, Lady Vargrave. Besides, Lumley is so gay and good-looking, and wears so well. He has been very nearly forming another attachment; but that, I trust, is out of his head now. They must like each other. You will not gainsay me, Lady Vargrave, and if anything happens to me--life is uncertain--" "Oh, do not speak so--my friend, my benefactor!" "Why, indeed," resumed his lordship, mildly, "thank Heaven, I am very well--feel younger than ever I did--but still life is uncertain; and if you survive me, you will not throw obstacles in the way of my grand scheme?" "I--no,--no--of course you have the right in all things over her destiny; but so young--so soft-hearted, if she should love one of her own years--" "Love!--pooh! love does not come into girls' heads unless it is put there. We will bring her up to love Lumley. I have another reason--a cogent one--our secret!--to him it can be confided--it should not go out of our family. Even in my grave I could not rest if a slur were cast on my respectability--my name." Lord Vargrave spoke solemnly and warmly; then muttering to himself, "Yes, it is for the best," he took up his hat and quitted the room. He joined his stepchild on the lawn. He romped with her--he played with her--that stiff, stately man!--he laughed louder than she did, and ran almost as fast. And when she was fatigued and breathless, he made her sit down beside him, in a little summer-house, and, fondly stroking down her disordered tresses, said, "You tire me out, child; I am growing too old to play with you. Lumley must supply my place. You love Lumley?" "Oh, dearly, he is so good-humoured, so kind: he has given me such a beautiful doll, with such eyes!" "You shall be his little wife--you would like to be his little wife?" "Wife! why, poor mamma is a wife, and she is not so happy as I am."