egear had perhaps not told her everything, but he had told her
something. "I was very fond of her;--very fond of her," he had said.
"And so I am still," he had added. "As you are my love of loves,
she is my friend of friends." Lady Mary had been satisfied by the
assurance, but had become anxious to see the friend of friends. She
resisted at first her brother's entreaties. She felt that her father
in delivering her over to the seclusion of The Horns had intended to
preclude her from showing herself in London. She was conscious that
she was being treated with cruelty, and had a certain pride in her
martyrdom. She would obey her father to the letter; she would give
him no right to call her conduct in question; but he and any other to
whom he might entrust the care of her, should be made to know that
she thought him cruel. He had his power to which she must submit.
But she also had hers,--to which it was possible he might be made to
submit. "I do not know that papa would wish me to go," she said.

"But it is just what he would wish. He thinks a good deal about
Mabel."

"Why should he think about her at all?"

"I can't exactly explain," said Silverbridge, "but he does."

"If you mean to tell me that Mabel Grex is anything particular to
you, and that papa approves of it, I will go all round the world to
see her." But he had not meant to tell her this. The request had been
made at Lady Mabel's instance. When his sister had spoken of her
father's possible objection, then he had become eager in explaining
the Duke's feeling, not remembering that such anxiety might betray
himself. At that moment Lady Cantrip came in, and the question was
referred to her. She did not see any objection to such a visit, and
expressed her opinion that it would be a good thing that Mary should
be taken out. "She should begin to go somewhere," said Lady Cantrip.
And so it was decided. On the next Friday he would come down early in
his hansom and drive her up to Belgrave Square. Then he would take
her to Carlton Terrace, and Lady Cantrip's carriage should pick her
up there and bring her home. He would arrange it all.

"What did you think of the American beauty?" asked Lady Cantrip when
that was settled.

"I thought she was a beauty."

"So I perceived. You had eyes for nobody else," said Lady Cantrip,
who had been at the garden-party.

"Somebody introduced her to me, and then I had to walk about the
grounds with her. That's the kind of thing on