Some vague half-defined
tale had been told him,--not about Tregear, as Tregear's name had
not been mentioned,--but respecting some dream of a young man who
had flitted across the girl's path during her mother's lifetime.
'All girls have such dreams,' Lady Cantrip had suggested.
Whereupon Lord Popplecourt said that he supposed it was so. 'But a
softer, purer, more unsullied flower never waited upon its stalk
till the proper fingers should choose to come and pluck it,' said
Lady Cantrip, rising to unaccustomed poetry on behalf of her
friend the Duke. Lord Popplecourt accepted the poetry and was
ready to do his best to pluck the flower.
Soon after the Duke's arrival Lord Popplecourt found himself in
one of the drawing-rooms with Lady Cantrip and his propose father-
in-law. A hint had been given him that he might as well be home
early from shooting, so as to be in the way. As the hour in which
he was to make himself specially agreeable, both to the father and
to the daughter, had drawn nigh, he became somewhat nervous, and
now, at this moment, was not altogether comfortable.
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