As Lady Glencora she had almost taken upon herself to create a
rivalry in society to certain very distinguished, and indeed
illustrious, people. There were only two houses in London, she used
to say, to which she never went. The "never" was not quite true;--but
there had been something in it. She doubted whether as Duchess of
Omnium she could go on with this. She must lay down her mischief,
and abandon her eccentricity, and in some degree act like other
duchesses. "The poor old man," she said to Madame Goesler; "I wish
he could have gone on living a little longer." At this time the two
ladies were alone together at Matching. Mr. Palliser, with the
cousins, had gone to Gatherum, whither also had been sent all that
remained of the late Duke, in order that fitting funeral obsequies
might be celebrated over the great family vault.

"He would hardly have wished it himself, I think."

"One never knows,--and as far as one can look into futurity one has
no idea what would be one's own feelings. I suppose he did enjoy
life."

"Hardly, for the last twelve months," said Madame Goesler.

"I think he did. He was happy when you were about him; and he
interested himself about things. Do you remember how much he used to
think of Lady Eustace and her diamonds? When I first knew him he was
too magnificent to care about anything."

"I suppose his nature was the same."

"Yes, my dear; his nature was the same, but he was strong enough to
restrain his nature, and wise enough to know that his magnificence
was incompatible with ordinary interests. As he got to be older he
broke down, and took up with mere mortal gossip. But I think it must
have made him happier."

"He showed his weakness in coming to me," said Madame Goesler,
laughing.

"Of course he did;--not in liking your society, but in wanting to
give you his name. I have often wondered what kind of things he used
to say to that old Lady Hartletop. That was in his full grandeur,
and he never condescended to speak much then. I used to think him so
hard; but I suppose he was only acting his part. I used to call him
the Grand Lama to Plantagenet when we were first married,--before
Planty was born. I shall always call him Silverbridge now instead of
Planty."

"I would let others do that."

"Of course I was joking; but others will, and he will be spoilt.
I wonder whether he will live to be a Grand Lama or a popular
Minister. There cannot be two positions further apart. My husba