'What am I to say, sir?' exclaimed Silverbridge, almost in despair. 'When I love the girl better than my life, and when you tell me that she can be mine if I choose to take her; when I have asked her to be my wife, and have got her to say that she likes me, when her father has given way, and all the rest of it, would it be possible that I should say now that I will give her up?'
'My opinion is to go for nothing,--in anything?' The Duke as he said this knew that he was expressing aloud a feeling which should have been restrained within his own bosom. It was natural that there should have been such plaints. The same suffering must be encountered in regard to Tregear and his daughter. In every way he had been thwarted. In every direction he was driven to yield. And yet now he had to undergo rebuke from his own son, because one of the inward plaints would force itself from his lips! Of course this girl was to be taken among the Pallisers and treated with an idolatrous love,--as perfect as though 'all the blood of all the Howards' were running in her veins. What further inch of ground was there for a fight? And if the fight were over, why should he rob his boy of one sparkle from the joy of his triumph?
Silverbridge was now standing before him abashed by that plaint, inwardly sustained no doubt by the conviction of his great success, but subdued by his father's wailing. 'However,--perhaps we had better let that pass,' said the Duke, with a long sigh. Then Silverbridge took his father's hand, and looked up in his face. 'I most sincerely hope that she may make you a good and loving wife,' said the Duke, 'and that she may do her duty by you in that not easy sphere of life to which she will be called.'
'I am quite sure she will,' said Silverbridge, whose ideas as to Isabel's duties were confined at present to a feeling that she would now have to give him kisses without stint.
'What I have seen of her personally recommends her to me,' said the Duke. 'Some girls are fools--'
'That's quite true, sir.'
'Who think that the world is to be nothing but dancing, and going to parties.'
'Many have been doing it for many years,' said Silverbridge, 'that they can't understand that there should be an end of it.'
'A wife ought to feel the great responsibility of her position. I hope she will.'
'And the sooner she begins the better,' said Silverbridge stoutly.
'And now,' said the Duke, looking at his watch, 'we might as well have lunch and go down to the House. I will walk with you if you please. It will be about time for each of us.' Then the son was forced to go down and see a somewhat faded ceremony of seeing Parliament opened by three Lords sitting in commission before the throne. Whereas but for such stress as his father had laid upon him, he would have disregarded his parliamentary duties and have rushed at once up to Brook Street. As it was he was so handed over from one political pundit to another, was so buttonholed by Sir Timothy, so chaffed as to the address by Phineas Finn, and at last so occupied with the whole matter that he was compelled to sit in his place till he had heard Nidderdale make his speech. This the young Scotch Lord did so well, and received so much praise for the doing of it, and looked so well in his uniform, that Silverbridge almost regretted the opportunity that he had lost. At seven the sitting was over, the speeches, though full of interest, having been shorter than usual. They had been full of interest, but nobody understood in the least what was going to happen. 'I don't know anything about the Prime Minister,' said Mr Lupton as he left the House with our hero and another not very staunch supporter of the Government, 'but I'll back Sir Timothy to be the Leader of the House on the last day of the session, against all comers. I don't think it much matters who is Prime Minister nowadays.'
At half-past seven Silverbridge was at the door at Brook Street.
Yes; Miss Boncassen was at home. The servant thought that she was upstairs dressing. Then Silverbridge made his way without further invitation into the drawing-room. There he remained alone for ten minutes. At last the door opened, and Mrs Boncassen entered.
'Dear! Lord Silverbridge, who ever dreamed of seeing you? I thought all you Parliament gentlemen were going through your ceremonies. Isabel had a ticket and went down, and saw your father.'
'Where is Isabel?'
'She's gone.'
'Gone! Where on earth has she gone to?' asked Silverbridge, as though fearing lest she had been already carried off to the other side of the Atlantic. Then Mrs Boncassen explained. Within the last three minutes Mrs Montacute Jones had called and carried Isabel off to the play. Mrs Jones was up in town for a week and this had been a very old engagement. 'I hope you did not want her particularly,' said Mrs Boncassen.
'But I did,--not particularly,' said Lord Silverbridge. The door was opened and Mr Boncassen entered the room. 'I beg your pardon for coming at such a time,' said the lover, 'but I did so want to see Isabel.'
'I rather thinks she wants to see you,' said the father.
'I shall go to the theatre after her.'
'That might be awkward,--particularly as I doubt whether anybody knows what theatre they are gone to. Can I receive a message for her, my lord?' This was certainly not what Lord Silverbridge had intended. 'You know, perhaps, that I have seen the Duke?'
'Oh yes;--I have seen him. Everything is settled.'
'That is the only message she will want to hear when she comes home. She is a happy girl and I am proud to think that I should live to call such a grand young Briton as you my son-in-law.'
Then he American took the young man's two hands and shook them cordially, while Mrs Boncassen bursting into tears insisted on kissing him.
'Indeed she is a happy girl,' said she; 'but I hope Isabel won't be carried away too high and mighty.'
