“You are right, perhaps, sir,—my station is what you have described it. I trust you have not mentioned to Lady Kilgoff anything of your Foreign-Office news?”
“Of course not, my Lord. It will always remain with your discretion when and how to make the communication.”
“It appears to me, sir, that her Ladyship has admitted many of the inmates here to a degree of intimacy quite inconsistent with their relative stations.”
“Her Ladyship's youth and amiability of manner offer great temptations to the inroads of obtrusiveness,” said Linton, with the air of one thinking aloud.
“I disagree with you, sir, entirely. I was young myself, sir, and, I am told, not quite destitute of those attractions you speak of; but I am not aware that any one ever took a liberty with me! This must be looked to. And now, your affair? When is it to come off? Your marriage, I mean?”
“That is by no means so certain, my Lord,” said Linton, who smiled in spite of himself at the careless tone in which his Lordship treated so very humble an event. “I may reckon on your Lordship's assistance, however?”
Lord Kilgoff waved his hand in token of acquiescence, and Linton took a formal leave, almost bursting with laughter at the ridiculous conceit he had himself contributed to create.
“Ay,” muttered he, as he descended the stairs, “as a democrat, an out-and-out democrat, I say, 'Long live' an Hereditary Peerage! 'I know nothing can equal it, in making the untitled classes the rulers.”