he other hand, professed herself to
be almost afraid of him.

"There shall be no tomfoolery of love-making," she had said. But
what if it were not tomfoolery at all? What if it were good, genuine,
earnest love-making? He certainly was not pledged to Lady Mabel. As
regarded his father there would be a difficulty. In the first place
he had been fool enough to tell his father that he was going to make
an offer to Mabel Grex. And then his father would surely refuse
his consent to a marriage with an American stranger. In such case
there would be no unlimited income, no immediate pleasantness of
magnificent life such as he knew would be poured out upon him if he
were to marry Mabel Grex. As he thought of this, however, he told
himself that he would not sell himself for money and magnificence.
He could afford to be independent, and gratify his own taste. Just
at this moment he was of opinion that Isabel Boncassen would be the
sweeter companion of the two.

He had sauntered down to the place where they were dancing and stood
by, saying a few words to Mrs. Boncassen. "Why are you not dancing,
my Lord?" she asked.

"There are enough without me."

"I guess you young aristocrats are never over-fond of doing much with
your own arms and legs."

"I don't know about that; polo, you know, for the legs, and
lawn-tennis for the arms, is hard work enough."

"But it must always be something new-fangled; and after all it isn't
of much account. Our young men like to have quite a time at dancing."

It all came through her nose! And she looked so common! What would
the Duke say to her, or Mary, or even Gerald? The father was by no
means so objectionable. He was a tall, straight, ungainly man, who
always wore black clothes. He had dark, stiff, short hair, a long
nose, and a forehead that was both high and broad. Ezekiel Boncassen
was the very man,--from his appearance,--for a President of the
United States; and there were men who talked of him for that high
office. That he had never attended to politics was supposed to be
in his favour. He had the reputation of being the most learned man
in the States, and reputation itself often suffices to give a man
dignity of manner. He, too, spoke through his nose, but the peculiar
twang coming from a man would be supposed to be virile and incisive.
From a woman, Lord Silverbridge thought it to be unbearable. But as
to Isabel, had she been born within the confines of some lordly park
in Hertfordsh