t son of so great a county magnate ought to do, his presence at
Gatherum Castle, among his own people, might probably be serviceable,
and would certainly be gracious. There would be no question of
entertainment. His bereavement would make that impossible. But there
would come from his presence a certain savour of proprietorship,
and a sense of power, which would be beneficial to his son, and
would not, as the Duke thought, be contrary to the spirit of the
constitution. But all this was now at an end. He told himself that he
did not care how the elections might go;--that he did not care much
how anything might go. Silverbridge might stand for Silverbridge
if he so pleased. He would give neither assistance nor obstruction,
either in the county or in the borough. He wrote to this effect to
his agent, Mr. Morton;--but at the same time desired that gentleman
to pay Lord Silverbridge's electioneering expenses, feeling it to be
his duty as a father to do so much for his son.

But though he endeavoured to engage his thoughts in these
parliamentary matters, though he tried to make himself believe that
this political apostasy was the trouble which vexed him, in truth
that other misery was so crushing, as to make the affairs of his son
insignificant. How should he express himself to her? That was the
thought present to his mind as he went down to Matching. Should he
content himself with simply telling her that such a wish on her part
was disgraceful, and that it could never be fulfilled; or should he
argue the matter with her, endeavouring as he did so to persuade her
gently that she was wrong to place her affections so low, and so to
obtain from her an assurance that the idea should be abandoned?

The latter course would be infinitely the better,--if only he could
accomplish it. But he was conscious of his own hardness of manner,
and was aware that he had never succeeded in establishing confidence
between himself and his daughter. It was a thing for which he had
longed,--as a plain girl might long to possess the charms of an
acknowledged beauty;--as a poor little fellow, five feet in height,
might long to have a cubit added to his stature.

Though he was angry with her, how willingly would he take her into
his arms and assure her of his forgiveness! How anxious he would
be to make her understand that nothing should be spared by him to
add beauty and grace to her life! Only, as a matter of course, Mr.
Tregear must be abandoned.