"There are no mountains in Sussex, and the rising generation knows entirely too much," snapped out the Dowager. "As for you-- I've conferred with my daughter----" She _has_ told her, thought the Secretary, preparing to draw down his mouth to the requisite expression of woe. "--And it gives me great happiness to tell you----" she continued, beaming on Stanley in spite of his flippancy, at which that gentleman drew down his mouth in good earnest, as he realised that she was still undeceived. "--It gives me great happiness to tell you, that I believe your suit will have a favourable termination. She has promised to consider it." "Oh," said the Secretary; and then, recollecting himself, added: "It's very good of her, I'm sure." If he had the opportunity, after lunch, he mentally determined to give Lady Isabelle a piece of his mind. "It's an honest soul," continued her Ladyship, not noticing the interruption, "which refuses the promptings of her heart. Her hesitancy is quite natural, I assure you, and most becoming. When his Lordship asked the honour of my hand----" The Dowager sighed at the sweetness of reminiscence, and again took up the thread of her discourse. "My daughter told me that she could not, without reflection, be certain of the state of her affections. Make allowance for her, Mr. Stanley, she is very young. Believe me, I should not speak as I do, were it not for the fact that I have known the world well--in my youthful days--though this you would scarcely believe, I dare say--I was one of the acknowledged leaders of the court." "Your Ladyship's wit and beauty are a bye-word in all good society, and one has only to see you, to realise that they have been enhanced by the added grace of years," murmured the Secretary, doing his prettiest. "You're a deceitful diplomat, and I don't believe you," said the Dowager, giggling and pretending to be very angry, but vastly pleased, none the less; and, giving him a flabby pat with one of her expansive hands, she continued: "You must not be downhearted, however; leave everything to me." The Secretary assured her that he felt quite safe to trust his heart in the keeping of one who had held the custody of so many, and was rewarded for his flattery by a further proof of the Dowager's confidence. "Take my advice, dear James----" she began; but Stanley felt this was a step too far, and hastened to put himself on the defensive. "That is not my name, Lady Port Arthur," he said, quietly. "But surely," she continued, pressing her point, "your friends call you by a disrespectful contraction of it. "Jim?" he asked, laughing. "Oh, that's because my Christian name is quite unfitted for ordinary usage--it's only brought out on state occasions." "May I inquire what it is?" "Aloysius." "Dear me, no, I don't think I could call you that; but as I was saying, if you take my advice you'll see as little as possible of Isabelle to-day. Leave her to herself; it's far wiser."