Katherine Massarene sighed and abandoned the argument. She went to ride in the Park with a heavy and anxious spirit. The season was odious to her; all which to most women of her age would have been delightful was, to her, tedious and oppressive beyond description. The sense that she was always being pointed out as William Massarene’s daughter destroyed such pleasure as she might have taken in the music, the art, the intellectual and political life of London. The sense that she was continually on show shut up her lips and gave her that slighting contempt and coldness of manner which repelled both men and women. The many offers for her hand which were made were addressed to her father; no one was bold enough to address them to herself. Everybody, except a few aged people, thought her a most disagreeable young woman. “Refuse every offer made to you--I do not mean to marry,” she had said once to him; and he had replied: “You will marry when I order you to do so.” But there was something in her regard which restrained him from ordering her, though he received various proposals which tempted him. What he wished for, however, was an English duke if a royal one was not to be had, and there was no duke in the market, they were all married or minors. So for the present he left her in peace concerning her settlement in life. Her heart was heavy as she rode over the tan, her thoroughbred mare dancing airily beneath her. She was a fine rider and quite fearless; but she hated park-riding amongst a mob of other people with a staring crowd at the rails. “A circus would be better,” she thought. She passed Hurstmanceaux, who was riding a young Irish horse; he lifted his hat slightly with a very cold expression on his face. Jack was with him, promoted to a Welsh pony of fourteen hands, Tom Tit having passed to the use of his brother Gerald. Jack and Boo had been sent for by their mother, who had again the loan of the Wisbeach house, her sister being this year in Nebraska for shooting. Jack was feeling quite a man, his pretty long curls had been cut off, he had a tutor chosen by Lord Augustus, he had a hunting-watch in his pocket, and he was wondering when he should be allowed to smoke. Manhood was not all roses. He never heard anything of Harry, and he did not see much of Boo. Jack looked after Katherine Massarene and her beautiful mare. “That’s the daughter of the old fat man who gives mammy such a lot of money,” he said, as he rode onward. “What do you mean?” said Hurstmanceaux, startled and stern. Jack was frightened. “What do you mean?” repeated his uncle. “Old man is made of money,” he said evasively; his uncle, very high above him, very erect and severe, looking down with sternly searching eyes, was an object of fear to Jack. “But why do you say your mother has his money? You must have some reason. Answer,” said Ronald, in a tone which did not admit of refusal.