ng how necessary
it was that she should be careful to see that things did turn out
in the manner proposed,--so that people who had waited should not
be disappointed; and the Duke was perhaps thinking that he was not
absolutely bound to his nephew by any law of God or man; and Madame
Max Goesler,--I wonder whether her thoughts were injurious to the
prospects of that handsome bold-faced little boy.

Lady Glencora rose to take her leave first. It was not for her to
show any anxiety to force the Duke out of the lady's presence. If the
Duke were resolved to make a fool of himself, nothing that she could
do would prevent it. But she thought that this little inspection
might possibly be of service, and that her uncle's ardour would
be cooled by the interruption to which he had been subjected. So
she went, and immediately afterwards the Duke followed her. The
interruption had, at any rate, saved him on that occasion from making
the highest bid for the pleasure of Madame Goesler's company at Como.
The Duke went down with the little boy in his hand, so that there
was not an opportunity for a single word of interest between the
gentleman and the lady.

Madame Goesler, when she was alone, seated herself on her sofa,
tucking her feet up under her as though she were seated somewhere in
the East, pushed her ringlets back roughly from her face, and then
placed her two hands to her sides so that her thumbs rested lightly
on her girdle. When alone with something weighty on her mind she
would sit in this form for the hour together, resolving, or trying
to resolve, what should be her conduct. She did few things without
much thinking, and though she walked very boldly, she walked warily.
She often told herself that such success as she had achieved could
not have been achieved without much caution. And yet she was ever
discontented with herself, telling herself that all that she had done
was nothing, or worse than nothing. What was it all, to have a duke
and to have lords dining with her, to dine with lords or with a duke
itself, if life were dull with her, and the hours hung heavy! Life
with her was dull, and the hours did hang heavy. And what if she
caught this old man, and became herself a duchess,--caught him by
means of his weakness, to the inexpressible dismay of all those
who were bound to him by ties of blood,--would that make her life
happier, or her hours less tedious? That prospect of a life on the
Italian lakes with an old man