Well, well, well, life has other things
yet; Poetry and Art live still; still smiles the heaven and still wave
the trees. Leave me to happiness in my own way."

The countess was about to reply, when the door was thrown hastily open,
and Lord Lansmere walked in.

The earl was some years older than the countess, but his placid face
showed less wear and tear,--a benevolent, kindly face, without any
evidence of commanding intellect, but with no lack of sense in its
pleasant lines; his form not tall, but upright and with an air of
consequence,--a little pompous, but good-humouredly so,--the pomposity
of the Grand Seigneur who has lived much in provinces, whose will
has been rarely disputed, and whose importance has been so felt and
acknowledged as to react insensibly on himself;--an excellent man; but
when you glanced towards the high brow and dark eye of the countess,
you marvelled a little how the two had come together, and, according to
common report, lived so happily in the union.

"Ho, ho! my dear Harley," cried Lord Lansmere, rubbing his hands with an
appearance of much satisfaction, "I have just been paying a visit to the
duchess."

"What duchess, my dear father?"

"Why, your mother's first cousin, to be sure,--the Duchess of
Knaresborough, whom, to oblige me, you condescended to call upon; and
delighted I am to hear that you admire Lady Mary--"

"She is very high bred, and rather--high-nosed," answered Harley. Then,
observing that his mother looked pained, and his father disconcerted, he
added seriously, "But handsome certainly."

"Well, Harley," said the earl, recovering himself, "the duchess, taking
advantage of our connection to speak freely, has intimated to me that
Lady Mary has been no less struck with yourself; and to come to the
point, since you allow that it is time you should think of marrying, I
do not know a more desirable alliance. What do you say, Katherine?"

"The duke is of a family that ranks in history before the Wars of the
Roses," said Lady Lansmere, with an air of deference to her husband;
"and there has never been one scandal in its annals, nor one blot on its
scutcheon. But I am sure my dear Lord must think that the duchess should
not have made the first overture,--even to a friend and a kinsman?"

"Why, we are old-fashioned people," said the earl, rather embarrassed,
"and the duchess is a woman of the world."

"Let us hope," said the countess, mildly, "that her daughter is not."