ship's
conduct to me had been so strange, that I hardly knew how to speak of
you among my friends."

"I thought I explained myself to your cousin."

"My cousin certainly did not understand your explanation."

Lord Fawn was certain that Greystock had understood it well; and
Greystock had in return insulted him,--because the engagement was
broken off. But it is impossible to argue on facts with a woman who
has been ill-used. "After all that has passed, perhaps we had better
part," said Lord Fawn.

"Then I shall put the matter into the hands of the Duke of Omnium,"
said Lizzie boldly. "I will not have my whole life ruined, my good
name blasted--"

"I have not said a word to injure your good name."

"On what plea, then, have you dared to take upon yourself to
put an end to an engagement which was made at your own pressing
request,--which was, of course, made at your own request? On what
ground do you justify such conduct? You are a Liberal, Lord Fawn;
and everybody regards the Duke of Omnium as the head of the Liberal
nobility in England. He is my friend, and I shall put the matter into
his hands." It was, probably, from her cousin Frank that Lizzie had
learned that Lord Fawn was more afraid of the leaders of his own
party than of any other tribunal upon earth,--or perhaps elsewhere.

Lord Fawn felt the absurdity of the threat, and yet it had effect
upon him. He knew that the Duke of Omnium was a worn-out old
debauchee, with one foot in the grave, who was looked after by two or
three women who were only anxious that he should not disgrace himself
by some absurdity before he died. Nevertheless, the Duke of Omnium,
or the duke's name, was a power in the nation. Lady Glencora was
certainly very powerful, and Lady Glencora's husband was Chancellor
of the Exchequer. He did not suppose that the duke cared in the least
whether Lizzie Eustace was or was not married;--but Lady Glencora
had certainly interested herself about Lizzie, and might make London
almost too hot to hold him if she chose to go about everywhere
saying that he ought to marry the lady. And in addition to all this
prospective grief, there was the trouble of the present moment. He
was in Lizzie's own room,--fool that he had been to come there,--and
he must get out as best he could. "Lady Eustace," he said, "I am most
anxious not to behave badly in this matter."

"But you are behaving badly,--very badly."

"With your leave I will tell you what I would sug