"Poor papa!"
"He was dreadfully cut up about Gerald. And then he is so good! He said more to me about Gerald than he ever did about my own little misfortune at Oxford; but to Gerald himself he said almost nothing. Now he has forgiven me because he thinks I am constant at the House."
"And are you?"
"Not so much as he thinks. I do go there,—for his sake. He has been so good about my changing sides."
"I think you were quite right there."
"I am beginning to think I was quite wrong. What did it matter to me?"
"I suppose it did make papa unhappy."
"Of course it did;—and then this affair of yours." As soon as this was said Lady Mary at once hardened her heart against her father. Whether Silverbridge was or was not entitled to his own political opinions,—seeing that the Pallisers had for ages been known as staunch Whigs and Liberals,—might be a matter for question. But that she had a right to her own lover she thought that there could be no question. As they were sitting in the cab he could hardly see her face, but he was aware that she was in some fashion arming herself against opposition. "I am sure that this makes him very unhappy," continued Silverbridge.
"It cannot be altered," she said.
"It will have to be altered."