rries, unless she marries with their consent, I don't quite see.
She won't like to offend them or seem ungrateful when they have done so
much for her; and I--according to the account that they will give her--I
have done nothing. So I don't suppose I shall be consulted about her
marriage."

"You are her father: you must be consulted."

"Well, as a matter of form! But I expect that she is destined to marry a
duke, my dear fellow; and I call it sheer folly on your part to have
fallen in love with her."

"But you don't object, Brooke?"

"I only hope that the destined duke will be half as decent a chap as you
are. But I can't encourage you--Lesley will have to look out for squalls
if she engages herself to you."

"May I not speak to her then?" inquired Maurice ruefully. "Not at once,
perhaps, you know; but if I think that I have a chance?"

"Say what you like," said Brooke, with a genial smile; for his ill-humor
had vanished in spite of his apparent opposition to Maurice's suit. "I
should like nothing better--for my own part; but we are both bound to
consider Lesley. You know you are a shocking bad match for her. Oh, I
know you are the descendant of kings and all that sort of bosh, but as a
matter of fact you are only a young medico, a general practitioner, and
his lordship is bound to think that I am making something for myself out
of the marriage."

"You don't think he'll consent?"

"Never, my dear boy. One mesalliance was enough for him. He has got rid
of me, and regained his daughter; but no doubt he intends to repair her
mistake by a grand match for Lesley."

"But perhaps she would not marry the man he chose for her?"

Brooke laughed. "Can't answer for Lesley, I don't know her well enough,"
he said. "Have you any notion, now, that she cares for you?"

Maurice shook his head dismally. "Not in the least. I scarcely think she
even likes me. But I mean to try my chance some day."

"I wish you joy," said Lesley's father, with a slight enigmatical smile.
"Especially with the Earl of Courtleroy. Hallo! there's the dinner bell.
We have wasted all our time talking up here: you'll stay and dine?"

"No, thanks--wish I could, but I must dine with Ethel, and go out
directly afterwards."

"When is the marriage to take place?" said Caspar, directing a keen
glance to the face of his friend.

"Ethel's? There is nothing settled."

"I say, Maurice, I don't like Trent. He's a slippery customer. I would
look after him a