The Duke's Children. Anthony Trollope

he did open his mind to Tregear. "I am very fond of Tifto," he said, "but I don't know whether he's just the sort of fellow to take down to an election."

      "I should think not," said Tregear very decidedly.

      "He's a very good fellow, you know," said Silverbridge. "I don't know an honester man than Tifto anywhere."

      "I dare say. Or rather, I don't dare say. I know nothing about the Major's honesty, and I doubt whether you do. He rides very well."

      "What has that to do with it?"

      "Nothing on earth. Therefore I advise you not to take him to Silverbridge."

      "You needn't preach."

      "You may call it what you like. Tifto would not hold his tongue, and there is nothing he could say there which would not be to your prejudice."

      "Will you go?"

      "If you wish it," said Tregear.

      "What will the governor say?"

      "That must be your look-out. In a political point of view I shall not disgrace you. I shall hold my tongue and look like a gentleman—neither of which is in Tifto's power."

      And so it was settled, that on the day but one after this conversation Lord Silverbridge and Tregear should go together to Silverbridge. But the Major, when on the same night his noble friend's altered plans were explained to him, did not bear the disappointment with equanimity. "Isn't that a little strange?" he said, becoming very red in the face.

      "What do you call strange?" said the Lord.

      "Well;—I'd made all my arrangements. When a man has been asked to do a thing like that, he doesn't like to be put off."

      "The truth is, Tifto, when I came to think of it, I saw that, going down to these fellows about Parliament and all that sort of thing, I ought to have a political atmosphere, and not a racing or a betting or a hunting atmosphere."

      "There isn't a man in London who cares more about politics than I do;—and not very many perhaps who understand them better. To tell you the truth, my Lord, I think you are throwing me over."

      "I'll make it up to you," said Silverbridge, meaning to be kind. "I'll go down to Newmarket with you and stick to you like wax."

      "No doubt you'll do that," said Tifto, who, like a fool, failed to see where his advantage lay. "I can be useful at Newmarket, and so you'll stick to me."

      "Look here, Major Tifto," said Silverbridge; "if you are dissatisfied, you and I can easily separate ourselves."

      "I am not dissatisfied," said the little man, almost crying.

      "Then don't talk as though you were. As to Silverbridge, I shall not want you there. When I asked you I was only thinking what would be pleasant to both of us; but since that I have remembered that business must be business." Even this did not reconcile the angry little man, who as he turned away declared within his own little bosom that he would "take it out of Silverbridge for that."

      Lord Silverbridge and Tregear went down to the borough together, and on the journey something was said about Lady Mary—and something also about Lady Mabel. "From the first, you know," said Lady Mary's brother, "I never thought it would answer."

      "Why not answer?"

      "Because I knew the governor would not have it. Money and rank and those sort of things are not particularly charming to me. But still things should go together. It is all very well for you and me to be pals, but of course it will be expected that Mary should marry some—"

      "Some swell?"

      "Some swell, if you will have it."

      "You mean to call yourself a swell?"

      "Yes I do," said Silverbridge, with considerable resolution. "You ought not to make yourself disagreeable, because you understand all about it as well as anybody. Chance has made me the eldest son of a Duke and heir to an enormous fortune. Chance has made my sister the daughter of a Duke, and an heiress also. My intimacy with you ought to be proof at any rate to you that I don't on that account set myself up above other fellows. But when you come to talk of marriage, of course it is a serious thing."

      "But you have told me more than once that you have no objection on your own score."

      "Nor have I."

      "You are only saying what the Duke will think."

      "I am telling you that it is impossible, and I told you so before. You and she will be kept apart, and so—"

      "And so she'll forget me."

      "Something of that kind."

      "Of course I have to trust to her for that. If she forgets me, well and good."

      "She needn't forget you. Lord bless me! you talk as though the thing were not done every day. You'll hear some morning that she is going to marry some fellow who has a lot of money and a good position; and what difference will it make then whether she has forgotten you or not?" It might almost have been supposed that the young man had been acquainted with his mother's history.

      After this there was a pause, and there arose conversation about other things, and a cigar was smoked. Then Tregear returned once more to the subject. "There is one thing I wish to say about it all."

      "What is that?"

      "I want you to understand that nothing else will turn me away from my intention but such a marriage on her part as that of which you speak. Nothing that your father can do will turn me."

      "She can't marry without his leave."

      "Perhaps not."

      "That he'll never give—and I don't suppose you look forward to waiting till his death."

      "If he sees that her happiness really depends on it he will give his leave. It all depends on that. If I judge your father rightly, he's just as soft-hearted as other people. The man who holds out is not the man of the firmest opinion, but the man of the hardest heart."

      "Somebody will talk Mary over."

      "If so, the thing is over. It all depends on her." Then he went on to tell his friend that he had spoken of his engagement to Lady Mabel. "I have mentioned it to no soul but to your father and to her."

      "Why to her?"

      "Because we were friends together as children. I never had a sister, but she has been more like a sister to me than any one else. Do you object to her knowing it?"

      "Not particularly. It seems to me now that everybody knows everything. There are no longer any secrets."

      "But she is a special friend."

      "Of yours," said Silverbridge.

      "And of yours," said Tregear.

      "Well, yes;—in a sort of way. She is the jolliest girl I know."

      "Take her all round, for beauty, intellect, good sense, and fun at the same time, I don't know any one equal to her."

      "It's a pity you didn't fall in love with her."

      "We knew each other too early for that. And then she has not a shilling. I should think myself dishonest if I did not tell you that I could not afford to love any girl who hadn't money. A man must live—and a woman too."

      At the station they were met by Mr. Sprugeon and Mr. Sprout, who, with many apologies for the meanness of such entertainment, took them up to the George and Vulture, which was supposed for the nonce to be the Conservative hotel in the town. Here they were met by other men of importance in the borough, and among them by Mr. Du Boung. Now Mr. Sprout and Mr. Sprugeon were Conservatives, but Mr. Du Boung was a strong Liberal.

      "We are, all of us, particularly glad to see your Lordship among us," said Mr. Du Boung.

      "I have told his Lordship how perfectly satisfied you are to see the borough in his Lordship's