e I bore her she overlooked them all, indeed she refused to
acknowledge them, to the extent that my worst political extravagances
became to her articles of faith. What I upheld was right; what I
denounced was wrong; on other points her mind was open and intelligent,
but on these it was a shut and bolted door. "My father says so," was her
last argument.

My position being such that I could ensure her a splendid future, I was
naturally anxious that she should make a brilliant marriage, since with
monstrous injustice destiny has decreed that a woman's road to
success must run past the altar. But as yet I could find no man whom
I considered suitable or worthy. One or two I knew, but they were not
peers, and I wished her to marry a peer or a rising politician who would
earn or inherit a peerage.

And so, good easy man, I looked around me, and said that full surely
my greatness was a-ripening. Who thinks of winter and its frosts in the
glow of such a summer as I enjoyed?

For a while everything went well. I took a house in Green Street, and
entertained there during the sitting of Parliament. The beauty of the
hostess, my daughter Jane, together with my own position and wealth, of
which she was the heiress, were sufficient to find us friends, or at any
rate associates, among the noblest and most distinguished in the land,
and for several seasons my dinner parties were some of the most talked
about in London. To be asked to one of them was considered a compliment,
even by men who are asked almost everywhere.

With such advantages of person, intelligence and surroundings at her
command, Jane did not lack for opportunities of settling herself in
life. To my knowledge she had three offers in one season, the last of
them from perhaps the best and most satisfactory _parti_ in England. But
to my great and ever-increasing dismay, one after another she refused
them all. The first two disappointments I bore, but on the third
occasion I remonstrated. She listened quite quietly, then said:

"I am very sorry to vex you, father dear, but to marry a man whom I do
not care about is just the one thing I can't do, even for your sake."

"But surely, Jane," I urged, "a father should have some voice in such a
matter."

"I think he has a right to say whom his daughter shall not marry,
perhaps, but not whom she shall marry."

"Then, at least," I said, catching at this straw, "will you promise that
you won't become engaged to any one without