"Ah, but class distinctions is hard to get over, Mr. Bunting," said Harriet. "You must pardon a butler’s feelings. Even Mr. Gubbles has his feelings. And he agrees with you that there’s no one but a duke ought to marry our dear lady. And she demeaning herself (if I dare say so) with Academicians and war correspondencies and Jew men; not but what Mr. Gordon is very gentlemanly and generous. Only yesterday, Mr. Bunting, he says to me when he met me outside, ’Do you read?’ And I says, ’Yes, sir,’ being some flustered, and he says, ’You read that.’ And it was a five-pound note. And he adds something about ’your vote and hinfluence.’ But I can’t do it, Mr. Bunting, I can’t. If it was Captain Goby, I might, and if it was young Lord Bramber I might more so, and even if it was Mr. de Vere, with a duke remote in his family, but for a Jewish man I can’t. So I said, ’Thank you, sir,’ and he went off. But some one is beginnin’ to rise up in my lady’s mind, I saw it plainly when I was dressing her. It would be worth more than five pounds to know who is risin’." "Yes," said Timothy. "’Ow much would it run to, do you think?" "I believe it would be worth a public ’ouse." "Beer and spirits?" asked Timothy, eagerly. "And a corner ’ouse at that," replied Harriet, nodding her head. "Oh, ’Arriet," said Timothy, with a gasp, "you fairly dazzle me." The newspaper men had dazzled Harriet. But indeed what she said seemed true to her. And it seemed true to Lord Bradstock, who had, like the man of the _Circus Gazette_, an eagle’s glance. "She has been playing fair," said Bradstock, "but one of them is drawing ahead, Titania." "Good heavens, who is he, and how do you know?" asked Titania. "It’s intuition," said Bradstock, "intuition combined with, or founded on, a little observation. She’s different, Titania. She takes no interest in the London County Council." "You don’t say so!" cried the duchess, in alarm. Bradstock nodded. "It’s a fact. I asked her if she had read the last debate, and she hadn’t, and when I mentioned the Deceased Wife’s Sister she yawned." "That looks bad," said Titania, "for only a week ago she raved about her, and Goring said he’d vote for her if she insisted on it. And she did insist, and tears came in her eyes about the poor thing." "Well, I told you so," said Bradstock, "and I do hope it isn’t Williams. I’m afraid of Williams. He’s capable of knocking her down and carrying her off on his shoulder. Do you remember with what joy she read us the account of the savage tribe somewhere (was it the east of London?) where they do that?" "It made me shiver with apprehension," said Titania. "Oh, if she was only married safely to a good duke, one not like Goring! Is there a good duke, Augustin?" "Several, so I’m informed," replied Bradstock, "and there are quite a number of good earls, some quite admirable. But I wish you’d get hold of Chloe Cadwallader, and find out something." Titania bristled like a porcupine.