pstead. To the world at large he was
Lord Hampstead,--to his friends in general he was Hampstead; to his
stepmother he was especially Hampstead,--as would have been her own
eldest son the moment he was born had he been born to such good luck.
To his father he had become Hampstead lately. In early days there had
been some secret family agreement that in spite of conventionalities
he should be John among them. The Marquis had latterly suggested that
increasing years made this foolish; but the son himself attributed
the change to step-maternal influences. But still he was John to his
sister, and John to some half-dozen sympathising friends,--and among
others to the Post Office clerk.

"He has not said a word to me," the sister replied when she was taxed
by her brother with seeming partiality for their young visitor.

"But he will?"

"No girl will ever admit as much as that, John."

"But if he should?"

"No girl will have an answer ready for such a suggestion."

"I know he will."

"If so, and if you have wishes to express, you should speak to him."

All this made the matter quite clear to her brother. A girl such
as was his sister would not so receive a brother's notice as to a
proposed overture of love from a Post Office clerk, unless she had
brought herself to look at the possibility without abhorrence.

"Would it go against the grain with you, John?" This was what the
clerk said when he was interrogated by his friend.

"There would be difficulties."

"Very great difficulties,--difficulties even with you."

"I did not say so."

"They would come naturally. The last thing that a man can abandon of
his social idolatries is the sanctity of the women belonging to him."

"God forbid that I should give up anything of the sanctity of my
sister."

"No; but the idolatry attached to it! It is as well that even a
nobleman's daughter should be married if she can find a nobleman
or such like to her taste. There is no breach of sanctity in the
love,--but so great a wound to the idolatry in the man! Things have
not changed so quickly that even you should be free from the feeling.
Three hundred years ago, if the man could not be despatched out
of the country or to the other world, the girl at least would be
locked up. Three hundred years hence the girl and the man will stand
together on their own merits. Just in this period of transition it is
very hard for such a one as you to free himself altogether from the
old tram