"Think," she said, in a low voice.
"I am thinking very deeply," he answered, with hidden meaning.
"If I were left to choose for you, I should be very exacting, Leycester, don't you think?"
"I am afraid so," he said, with a smile. "Every goose thinks her bantling a swan, and would mate it with an eagle. Forgive me, mother!"
She inclined her head.
"I should require much. I should want beauty, wealth——"
"Of which we have too much already. Go on."
"Rank, and what is still better, a high position. The Wyndwards cannot troop with crows, Leycester."
"Beauty, wealth, rank, and a mysterious sort of position. A princess, perhaps, my lady?"