eclared
that he would see no one except his eldest nephew, his nephew's wife,
and Madame Goesler.

That evening was very dreadful to all of them at Matching,--except to
the Duke, who was never told of Lady Hartletop's perseverance. The
poor old woman could not be sent away on that afternoon, and was
therefore forced to dine with Mr. Palliser. He, however, was warned
by his wife to say nothing in the lady's presence about his uncle,
and he received her as he would receive any other chance guest at
his wife's table. But the presence of Madame Goesler made the chief
difficulty. She herself was desirous of disappearing for that
evening, but Lady Glencora would not permit it. "She has seen you,
my dear, and asked about you. If you hide yourself, she'll say all
sorts of things." An introduction was therefore necessary, and Lady
Hartletop's manner was grotesquely grand. She dropped a very low
curtsey, and made a very long face, but she did not say a word. In
the evening the Marchioness sat close to Lady Glencora, whispering
many things about the Duke; and condescending at last to a final
entreaty that she might be permitted to see him on the following
morning. "There is Sir Omicron," said Lady Glencora, turning round to
the little doctor. But Lady Hartletop was too proud to appeal to Sir
Omicron, who, as a matter of course, would support the orders of Lady
Glencora. On the next morning Madame Goesler did not appear at the
breakfast-table, and at eleven Lady Hartletop was taken back to the
train in Lady Glencora's carriage. She had submitted herself to
discomfort, indignity, fatigue, and disappointment; and it had all
been done for love. With her broad face, and her double chin, and her
heavy jowl, and the beard that was growing round her lips, she did
not look like a romantic woman; but, in spite of appearances, romance
and a duck-like waddle may go together. The memory of those forty
years had been strong upon her, and her heart was heavy because she
could not see that old man once again. Men will love to the last,
but they love what is fresh and new. A woman's love can live on the
recollection of the past, and cling to what is old and ugly. "What
an episode!" said Lady Glencora, when the unwelcome visitor was
gone;--"but it's odd how much less dreadful things are than you think
they will be. I was frightened when I heard her name; but you see
we've got through it without much harm."

A week passed by, and still the Duke w