she were unhappy, so would he be unhappy too,--to
make her understand that a hard necessity had made this sorrow common
to them both. He thought that, if she would only allow it, he could
speak of her love as a calamity which had befallen them, as from the
hand of fate, and not as a fault. If he could make a partnership in
misery with her, so that each might believe that each was acting for
the best, then he could endure all that might come. But, as he was
well aware, she regarded him as being simply cruel to her. She did
not understand that he was performing an imperative duty. She had set
her heart upon a certain object, and having taught herself that in
that way happiness might be reached, had no conception that there
should be something in the world, some idea of personal dignity, more
valuable to her than the fruition of her own desires! And yet every
word he spoke to her was affectionate. He knew that she was bruised,
and if it might be possible he would pour oil into her wounds,--even
though she would not recognise the hand which relieved her.

They slept one night in town,--where they encountered Silverbridge
soon after his retreat from the Beargarden. "I cannot quite make up
my mind, sir, about that fellow Tifto," he said to his father.

"I hope you have made up your mind that he is no fit companion for
yourself."

"That's over. Everybody understands that, sir."

"Is anything more necessary?"

"I don't like feeling that he has been ill-used. They have made him
resign the club, and I fancy they won't have him at the hunt."

"He has lost no money by you?"

"Oh no."

"Then I think you may be indifferent. From all that I hear I think he
must have won money,--which will probably be a consolation to him."

"I think they have been hard upon him," continued Silverbridge. "Of
course he is not a good man, nor a gentleman, nor possessed of very
high feelings. But a man is not to be sacrificed altogether for that.
There are so many men who are not gentlemen, and so many gentlemen
who are bad fellows."

"I have no doubt Mr. Lupton knew what he was about," replied the
Duke.

On the next morning the Duke and Lady Mary went down to Matching,
and as they sat together in the carriage after leaving the railway
the father endeavoured to make himself pleasant to his daughter. "I
suppose we shall stay at Matching now till Christmas," he said.

"I hope so."

"Whom would you like to have here?"

"I don't want any o