shy, and dull,
he is neither amiable nor distinguished, but he has a painstaking wish
in him to do well by his country, which is almost noble in a person who
has been toadied, indulged, and tempted in all ways and on all sides
ever since his cradle days. It is the disinterested patriotism which has
been so largely the excellence and honor of the English nobility, and
which is only possible in men of position so high that they are raised
by it from birth above all vulgar covetousness or pecuniary needs.
"Do you really think?" says the duke, timidly, for he is very afraid of
Henry Wootton,--"do you really think that to have any influence on
English public life it is necessary--necessary--to keep so very
straight, as regards women, I mean, you know?"
"It is most necessary to _appear_ to keep very straight," replies Mr.
Wootton. The two things are obviously different to the meanest capacity.
The young man sighs.
"And to have that--that--appearance, one must be married?"
"Indisputably. Marriage is as necessary to respectability in any great
position as a brougham to a doctor, or a butler to a bishop," replies
the elder, smiling compassionately at the wick of his candle. He does
not care a straw about the duke: he has no daughters to marry, and Mr.
Wootton's social eminence is far beyond the power of dukes or princes to
make or mend.
"But," stammers his Grace of Queenstown, growing red, yet burning with a
desire for instruction, "but don't you think a--a connection with--with
any lady of one's own rank is quite safe, quite sure not to cause
scandal?"
Mr. Wootton balances his candlestick carefully on one finger, pauses in
his walk, and looks hard at his questioner.
"That would depend entirely upon the lady's temper," replies this wise
monitor of youth.
They are words of wisdom so profound that they sink deep into the soul
of his pupil, and fill him with a consternated sadness and perplexity.
The temper of Lady Dawlish is a known quantity, and the quality of it is
alarming. Lady Dawlish is not young, she is good-looking, and she has
debts. Lord Dawlish has indeed hitherto let her pay her debts in any way
she chose, being occupied enough with paying such of his own as he
cannot by any dexterity avoid; but there is no knowing what he may do
any day out of caprice or ill nature, and, although he will never obtain
a divorce, he may try for one, which will equally effectually convulse
the duke's county and the c
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