no
doubt had suggested a different course. But that which Isabel had
suggested was at the present moment impossible to him. Now, at this
instant, without a moment's forethought, he determined to tell his
story to Isabel's father,--as any other lover might tell it to any
other father.
"I am very glad to find ourselves alone, Mr. Boncassen," he said. Mr.
Boncassen bowed and showed himself prepared to listen. Though so many
at Matching had seen the whole play, Mr. Boncassen had seen nothing
of it.
"I don't know whether you are aware of what I have got to say."
"I cannot quite say that I am, my Lord. But whatever it is, I am sure
I shall be delighted to hear it."
"I want to marry your daughter," said Silverbridge. Isabel had told
him that he was downright, and in such a matter he had hardly as
yet learned how to express himself with those paraphrases in which
the world delights. Mr. Boncassen stood stock still, and in the
excitement of the moment pulled off his hat. "The proper thing is to
ask your permission to go on with it."
"You want to marry my daughter!"
"Yes. That is what I have got to say."
"Is she aware of your--intention?"
"Quite aware. I believe I may say that if other things go straight,
she will consent."
"And your father--the Duke?"
"He knows nothing about it,--as yet."
"Really this takes me quite by surprise. I am afraid you have not
given enough thought to the matter."
"I have been thinking about it for the last three months," said Lord
Silverbridge.
"Marriage is a very serious thing."
"Of course it is."
"And men generally like to marry their equals."
"I don't know about that. I don't think that counts for much. People
don't always know who are their equals."
"That is quite true. If I were speaking to you or to your father
theoretically I should perhaps be unwilling to admit superiority on
your side because of your rank and wealth. I could make an argument
in favour of any equality with the best Briton that ever lived,--as
would become a true-born Republican."
"That is just what I mean."
"But when the question becomes one of practising,--a question for our
lives, for our happiness, for our own conduct, then, knowing what
must be the feelings of an aristocracy in such a country as this, I
am prepared to admit that your father would be as well justified in
objecting to a marriage between a child of his and a child of mine,
as I should be in objecting to one betwee
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