est till I had a title in
this country, if I were a lady,--and rich and beautiful."

"And can the countesses, and the ladyships, and the duchesses do as
they please?"

"Ah, madame;--I know not that."

"But I know. That will do, Lotta. Now leave me." Then Madame Goesler
had made up her mind; but I do not know whether that doubt as to
having her own way had much to do with it. As the wife of an old man
she would probably have had much of her own way. Immediately after
breakfast she wrote her answer to the Duke, which was as follows:--

Park Lane, Monday.

MY DEAR DUKE OF OMNIUM,

I find so great a difficulty in expressing myself to your
Grace in a written letter, that since you left me I have
never ceased to wish that I had been less nervous, less
doubting, and less foolish when you were present with me
here in my room. I might then have said in one word what
will take so many awkward words to explain.

Great as is the honour you propose to confer on me, rich
as is the gift you offer me, I cannot accept it. I cannot
be your Grace's wife. I may almost say that I knew it
was so when you parted from me; but the surprise of the
situation took away from me a part of my judgment, and
made me unable to answer you as I should have done. My
lord, the truth is, that I am not fit to be the wife of
the Duke of Omnium. I should injure you; and though I
should raise myself in name, I should injure myself in
character. But you must not think, because I say this,
that there is any reason why I should not be an honest
man's wife. There is none. I have nothing on my conscience
which I could not tell you,--or to another man; nothing
that I need fear to tell to all the world. Indeed, my
lord, there is nothing to tell but this,--that I am not
fitted by birth and position to be the wife of the Duke of
Omnium. You would have to blush for me, and that no man
shall ever have to do on my account.

I will own that I have been ambitious, too ambitious, and
have been pleased to think that one so exalted as you are,
one whose high position is so rife in the eyes of all men,
should have taken pleasure in my company. I will confess
to a foolish woman's silly vanity in having wished to be
known to be the friend of the Duke of Omnium. I am like
the other moths that flutter near the light and have their
wings burned. But I am wiser than the