"She is very high-bred, and rather-high-nosed," answered Harley. Then observing that his mother looked pained, and his father disconcerted, he added seriously, "But handsome certainly." "Well, Harley," said the Earl, recovering himself, "the Duchess, taking advantage of our connection to speak freely, had intimated to me that Lady Mary has been no less struck with yourself; and to come to the point, since you allow that it is time you should think of marrying, I do not know a more desirable alliance. What do you say, Catherine?" "The Duke is of a family that ranks in history before the Wars of the Roses," said Lady Lansmere, with an air of deference to her husband; "and there has never been one scandal in its annals, or one blot in its scutcheon. But I am sure my dear Lord must think that the Duchess should not have made the first overture--even to a friend and a kinsman?" "Why, we are old-fashioned people," said the Earl rather embarrassed, "and the Duchess is a woman of the world." "Let us hope," said the Countess mildly, "that her daughter is not." "I would not marry Lady Mary, if all the rest of the female sex were turned into apes," said Lord L'Estrange, with deliberate fervor. "Good Heavens!" cried the Earl, "what extraordinary language is this! And pray why, sir?" _Harley._--"I can't say--there is no why in these cases. But, my dear father, you are not keeping faith with me." _Lord Lansmere._--"How?" _Harley._--"You and my Lady here entreat me to marry--I promise to do my best to obey you; but on one condition--that I choose for myself, and take my time about it. Agreed on both sides. Whereon, off goes your Lordship--actually before noon, at an hour when no lady without a shudder could think of cold blonde and damp orange flowers--off goes your Lordship, I say, and commits poor Lady Mary and your unworthy son to a mutual admiration--which neither of us ever felt. Pardon me, my father--but this is grave. Again let me claim your promise--full choice for myself, and no reference to the Wars of the Roses. What war of the roses like that between Modesty and Love upon the cheek of the virgin!" _Lady Lansmere._--"Full choice for yourself, Harley;--so be it. But we, too, named a condition--Did we not, Lansmere?" The _Earl_ (puzzled).--"Eh--did we! Certainly we did." _Harley._--"What was it?" _Lady Lansmere._--"The son of Lord Lansmere can only marry the daughter of a gentleman." The _Earl._--"Of course--of course." The blood rushed over Harley's fair face, and then as suddenly left it pale. He walked away to the window--his mother followed him, and again laid her hand on his shoulder.