‘Ah no,’ said Lord Warburton gravely; ‘none!’

‘Permit me to ask,’ Ralph went on, ‘whether it’s to bring out the fact that you don’t mean to make love to her that you’re so very civil to the little girl?’

Lord Warburton gave a slight start; he got up and stood before the fire, looking at it hard. ‘Does that strike you as very ridiculous?’

‘Ridiculous? Not in the least, if you really like her.’

‘I think her a delightful little person. I don’t know when a girl of that age has pleased me more.’

‘She’s a charming creature. Ah, she at least is genuine.’

‘Of course there’s the difference in our ages—more than twenty years.’

‘My dear Warburton,’ said Ralph, ‘are you serious?’

‘Perfectly serious—as far as I’ve got.’

‘I’m very glad. And, heaven help us,’ cried Ralph, ‘how cheered-up old Osmond will be!’

His companion frowned. ‘I say, don’t spoil it. I shouldn’t propose for his daughter to please him.’

‘He’ll have the perversity to be pleased all the same.’

‘He’s not so fond of me as that,’ said his lordship.

‘As that? My dear Warburton, the drawback of your position is that people needn’t be fond of you at all to wish to be connected with you. Now, with me in such a case, I should have the happy confidence that they loved me.’

Lord Warburton seemed scarcely in the mood for doing justice to general axioms—he was thinking of a special case. ‘Do you judge she’ll be pleased?’

‘The girl herself? Delighted, surely.’

‘No, no; I mean Mrs Osmond.’

Ralph looked at him a moment. ‘My dear fellow, what has she to do with it?’

‘Whatever she chooses. She’s very fond of Pansy.’

‘Very true—very true.’ And Ralph slowly got up. ‘It’s an interesting question—how far her fondness for Pansy will carry her.’ He stood there a moment with his hands in his pockets and rather a clouded brow. ‘I hope, you know, that you’re very—very sure. The deuce!’ he broke off. ‘I don’t know how to say it.’

‘Yes, you do; you know how to say everything.’

‘Well, it’s awkward. I hope you’re sure that among Miss Osmond’s merits her being—a—so near her stepmother isn’t a leading one?’

‘Good heavens, Touchett!’ cried Lord Warburton angrily, ‘for what do you take me?’