be better to give it all up, and be a great woman, une grande
dame, of another kind,--difficult of access, sparing of her favours,
aristocratic to the backbone,--a very Duchess of duchesses? The role
would be one very easy to play. It required rank, money, and a little
manner,--and these she possessed. The old Duke had done it with ease,
without the slightest trouble to himself, and had been treated almost
like a god because he had secluded himself. She could make the change
even yet,--and as her husband told her that she was vulgar, she
thought she would make it.

But at last, before she had abandoned her desk and paper, there had
come to her another thought. Nothing to her was so distasteful as
failure. She had known that there would be difficulties, and had
assured herself that she would be firm and brave in overcoming them.
Was not this accusation of vulgarity simply one of the difficulties
which she had to overcome? Was her courage already gone from her? Was
she so weak that a single word should knock her over,--and a word
evidently repented of as soon as uttered? Vulgar! Well;--let her be
vulgar as long as she gained her object. There had been no penalty of
everlasting punishment denounced against vulgarity. And then a higher
idea touched her, not without effect,--an idea which she could not
analyse, but which was hardly on that account the less effective. She
did believe thoroughly in her husband, to the extent of thinking him
the fittest man in all the country to be its Prime Minister. His fame
was dear to her. Her nature was loyal; and though she might, perhaps,
in her younger days have been able to lean upon him with a more
loving heart had he been other than he was, brighter, more gay, given
to pleasures, and fond of trifles, still, she could recognise merits
with which her sympathy was imperfect. It was good that he should be
England's Prime Minister, and therefore she would do all she could to
keep him in that place. The vulgarity was a necessary essential. He
might not acknowledge this,--might even, if the choice were left to
him, refuse to be Prime Minister on such terms. But she need not,
therefore, give way. Having in this way thought it all out, she took
up her pen and completed the batch of letters before she allowed
herself to go to bed.

CHAPTER XX

Sir Orlando's Policy

When the guests began to arrive our friend the Duchess had apparently
got through her little difficulties, for she r