'Surely, Duchess; I did not mean that. The most powerful mind, coupled with the highest rank,--how should that fail to attract and fix the affection and gratitude of a man? No, dear friend; what I meant was this: he is too young, perhaps, for the full development either of virtues--or their opposites,--too young, perhaps, to know the reality of the prize you offer him.' 'I think not, Julia,' the Duchess spoke kindly,--'I think not. It is good of you to consider this possibility in so friendly a way; but I have the greatest reliance on the good qualities of Lord Chester. Lady Boltons is his guardian; who would be safer? Professor Ingleby has been his tutor; who could be more discreet?' 'Yes,--Professor Ingleby. She is certainly learned; and yet--yet--at Cambridge there is an uneasy feeling about her orthodoxy.' 'I care little,' said the Duchess, 'about a few wild notions which he may have picked up. On such a man, a little freedom of thought sits gracefully. A Duke of Dunstanburgh cannot possibly be anything but orthodox. Yes, Julia; and the sum of it all is that I am getting old, and I am going to make myself happy with the help of this young gentleman.' 'In that case,' said her friend, 'I have nothing to say, except that I wish you every kind of happiness that you can desire.' 'Thank you, Julia. And you will very greatly oblige me if you will mention, wherever you can, that you know, on the very best authority, that the match will be one of pure affection--on both sides; mind, on both sides.' 'I will certainly say so, if you wish,' replied Lady Despard. 'I think, however, that you ought to know, Duchess, something of what people say--no, not common people, but people whose opinions even you are bound to consider.' 'Go on,' said the Duchess frowning. 'They say that Lord Chester is so proud of his hereditary title and his rank that he would be broken-hearted to see it merged in any higher title; that he is too rich and too highly placed to be tempted by any of the ordinary baits by which men are caught; that you can give him nothing which he cannot buy for himself; and, lastly, that he is already in love,--even that words of affection have been passed between him and the Countess of Carlyon.' Here the Duchess interrupted, vehemently banging the floor with the crutch which stood at her right hand. 'Lord Chester in love? What nonsense is this, Julia? A young nobleman of his rank--almost my rank--in love! Are you mad, Julia? Are you softening in the brain? Are you aware that the boy has been properly brought up? Will you be good enough to remember that Lady Boltons is beyond all suspicion, and that he could never have seen Lady Carlyon alone since he was a boy?'