." Here she put her arm into
Graham's, and led him into her own private drawing-room, which, though
others might call it a boudoir, she dignified by the name of her study.
The Duke remained for some minutes thoughtfully leaning his arm on the
mantelpiece. It was no unimportant debate in the Lords that night, and
on a subject in which he took great interest, and the details of which
he had thoroughly mastered. He had been requested to speak, if only a
few words, for his high character and his reputation for good sense gave
weight to the mere utterance of his opinion. But though no one had more
moral courage in action, the Duke had a terror at the very thought of
addressing an audience, which made him despise himself.

"Ah!" he muttered, "if Graham Vane were but in Parliament, I could trust
him to say exactly what I would rather be swallowed up by an earthquake
than stand up and say for myself. But now he has got money he seems to
think of nothing but saving it."

CHAPTER V.

The letter from Lady Janet, which the Duchess took from the desk and
placed in Graham's hand, was in strange coincidence with the subject
that for the last twenty-four hours had absorbed his thoughts and
tortured his heart. Speaking of him in terms of affectionate eulogy, the
writer proceeded to confide her earnest wish that he should not longer
delay that change in life which, concentrating so much that is vague in
the desires and aspirations of man, leaves his heart and his mind, made
serene by the contentment of home, free for the steadfast consolidation
of their warmth and their light upon the ennobling duties that unite the
individual to his race.

"There is no one," wrote Lady Janet, "whose character and career a
felicitous choice in marriage can have greater influence over than this
dear adopted son of mine. I do not fear that in any case he will be
liable to the errors of his brilliant father. His early reverse of
fortune here seems to me one of those blessings which Heaven conceals
in the form of affliction. For in youth, the genial freshness of his gay
animal spirits, a native generosity mingled with desire of display
and thirst for applause, made me somewhat alarmed for his future. But,
though he still retains these attributes of character, they are no
longer predominant; they are modified and chastened. He has learned
prudence. But what I now fear most for him is that which he does not
show in the world, which neither Leopold no