There was no better blood in England.
And Lady Mabel was known to be clever, beautiful, and, in her
peculiar circumstances, very wise.
He was aware, however, of a certain drawback. Lady Mabel as his
wife would be his superior, and in some degrees his master. Though
not older she was wiser than he,--and not only wiser but more
powerful also. And he was not quite sure but that she regarded him
as a boy. He thought that she did love him,--or would do so if he
asked her,--but that her love would be bestowed upon him as on an
inferior creature. He was already jealous of his own dignity, and
fearful lest he should miss the glory of being loved by this
lovely one for his own sake,--for his own manhood, and his own
gifts and character.
And yet his attraction to her was so great that now in the day of
his sorrow he could think of no solace but what was to be found in
her company. 'Not at the Oaks!' she said as soon as he was shown
into the drawing-room.
'No,--not at the Oaks. Lord Grex is there, I suppose?'
'Oh yes;--that is a matter of course.
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