"And what then, what then, Lady Vargrave? Is there no disparity of
years between /us/?--a greater disparity than between Lumley and that
tall girl. Lumley is a mere youth, a youth still, five-and-thirty; he
will be little more than forty when they marry; I was between fifty and
sixty when I married you, Lady Vargrave. I don't like boy and girl
marriages: a man should be older than his wife. But you are so
romantic, Lady Vargrave. Besides, Lumley is so gay and good-looking,
and wears so well. He has been very nearly forming another attachment;
but that, I trust, is out of his head now. They must like each other.
You will not gainsay me, Lady Vargrave, and if anything happens to
me--life is uncertain--"

"Oh, do not speak so--my friend, my benefactor!"

"Why, indeed," resumed his lordship, mildly, "thank Heaven, I am very
well--feel younger than ever I did--but still life is uncertain; and if
you survive me, you will not throw obstacles in the way of my grand
scheme?"

"I--no,--no--of course you have the right in all things over her
destiny; but so young--so soft-hearted, if she should love one of her
own years--"

"Love!--pooh! love does not come into girls' heads unless it is put
there. We will bring her up to love Lumley. I have another reason--a
cogent one--our secret!--to him it can be confided--it should not go out
of our family. Even in my grave I could not rest if a slur were cast on
my respectability--my name."

Lord Vargrave spoke solemnly and warmly; then muttering to himself,