persistent as to make you feel that her happiness depends, as mine
does, on our marriage, then I shall believe that you will yield at
last.'

'Never!' said the Duke. 'Never! I shall never believe that my
daughter's happiness can be assured by a step which I should regard
as disgraceful to her.'

'Disgraceful is a violent word, my Lord.'

'It is the only word that will express my meaning.'

'And one which I must be bold enough to say you are not justified
in using. Should she become my wife tomorrow, no one in England
would think that she had disgraced herself. The Queen would
receive her on her marriage. All your friends would hold their
hands out to us,--presuming that we had your good-will.'

'But you would not have it.'

'Her disgrace would not depend upon that, my Lord. Should your
daughter so dispose herself, as to disgrace herself,--which I think
to be impossible,--your countenance could not set her right. Nor
can the withdrawal of your countenance condemn her before the
world if she does that with herself which any other lady might do
and remain a lady.'

The Duke, when he heard this, even in the midst of his wrath,
which was very violent, and the in the midst of his anger, which
was very acute, felt that he had to deal with a man,--with one whom