He sat gaping after her, horrified--genuinely horrified.




CHAPTER III


The Earl of Carbury was a youngish man with no sort of turn for being a
nobleman. He could not bring himself to behave as if he was anybody in
particular; and though this passed for perfect breeding whenever he by
chance appeared in his place in society, on the magisterial bench, or in
the House of Lords, it prevented him from making the most of the
earldom, and was a standing grievance with his relatives, many of whom
were the most impudent and uppish people on the face of the earth. He
was, if he had only known it, a born republican, with no natural belief
in earls at all; but as he was rather too modest to indulge his
consciousness with broad generalizations of this kind, all he knew about
the matter was that he was sensible of being a bad hand at his
hereditary trade of territorial aristocrat. At a very early age he had
disgraced himself by asking his mother whether he might be a watchmaker
when he grew up, and his feeble sense on that occasion of the
impropriety of an earl being anything whatsoever except an earl had
given his mother an imperious contempt for him which afterward got
curiously mixed with a salutary dread of his moral superiority to her,
which was considerable. His aspiration to become a watchmaker was an
early symptom of his extraordinary turn for mechanics. An apprenticeship
of six years at the bench would have made an educated workman of him: as
it was, he pottered at every mechanical pursuit as a gentleman amateur