not been the case. Such was certainly the fact; for she, dear,
prudent, excellent wife as she was, knew that Mr Sowerby was not
the most eligible friend in the world for a young clergyman, and
knew, also, that there was but one other house in the whole county
the name of which was so distasteful to Lady Lufton. The reasons
for this were, I may say, manifold. In the first place, Mr Sowerby
was a Whig, and was seated in Parliament mainly by that great Whig
autocrat the Duke of Omnium, whose residence was more dangerous
even than that of Mr Sowerby, and whom Lady Lufton regarded as an
impersonation of Lucifer upon earth. Mr Sowerby, too, was
unmarried--as indeed, also, was Lord Lufton, much to his mother's
grief. Mr Sowerby, it is true, was fifty, whereas the young lord
was as yet only twenty-five, but, nevertheless, her ladyship was
becoming anxious on the subject. In her mind every man was bound
to marry as soon as he could maintain a wife; and she held an
idea--a quite private tenet, of which she was herself but
imperfectly conscious--that men in general were inclined to neglect
this duty for their own selfish gratifications, that the wicked
ones encouraged the more innocent in this neglect, and that many
would not marry at all, were not unseen exercised against them by
the other sex. The Duke of Omnium was the head of all such
sinners, and Lady Lufton greatly feared that her son might be made
subject to the baneful Omnium influence, by means of Mr Sowerby and
Chaldicotes. And then Mr Sowerby was known to be a very poor man,
with a very large estate. He had wasted, men said, much on
electioneering, and more on gambling. A considerable portion of
his property had gone into the hands of the duke, who, as a rule,
bought up everything around him that was to be purchased. Indeed,
it was said of him by his enemies, that so covetous was he of
Barsetshire property, that he would lead a young neighbour on to