ready to see Lord George when he
comes again, and you ought to remember, my dear, that marquises do not
grow on every hedge."

With great care and cunning workmanship one may almost make a silk
purse out of a sow's ear, but not quite. The care which Dean Lovelace
had bestowed upon the operation in regard to himself had been very
great, and the cunning workmanship was to be seen in every plait and
every stitch. But still there was something left of the coarseness of
the original material. Of all this poor Mary knew nothing at all; but
yet she did not like being told of marquises and hedges where her heart
was concerned. She had wanted,--had unconsciously wanted,--some touch
of romance from her father to satisfy the condition in which she found
herself. But there was no touch of romance there; and when she was left
to herself to work the matter out in her own heart and in her own mind
she was unsatisfied.

Two or three days after this Mary received notice that her lover was
coming. The Dean had seen him and had absolutely fixed a time. To poor
Mary this seemed to be most unromantic, most unpromising. And though
she had thought of nothing else since she had first heard of Lord
George's intention, though she had laid awake struggling to make up her
mind, she had reached no conclusion. It had become quite clear to her
that her father was anxious for the marriage, and there was much in it
which recommended it to herself. The old elms of the park of Manor
Cross were very tempting. She was not indifferent to being called My
Lady. Though she had been slightly hurt when told that marquises did
not grow on hedges, still she knew that it would be much to be a
marchioness. And the man himself was good, and not only good but very
handsome. There was a nobility about him beyond that of his family.
Those prone to ridicule might perhaps have called him Werter-faced, but
to Mary there was a sublimity in this. But then was she in love with
him?

She was a sweet, innocent, ladylike, high-spirited, joyous creature.
Those struggles of her father to get rid of the last porcine taint,
though not quite successful as to himself, had succeeded thoroughly in
regard to her. It comes at last with due care, and the due care had
here been taken. She was so nice that middle-aged men wished themselves
younger that they might make love to her, or older that they might be
privileged to kiss her. Though keenly anxious for amusement, though
over head a