CHAPTER XXXIV.
"AFTER SO MANY YEARS OF DREAD HAS IT COME AT LAST?"
There was no part of the day that the Duke of Downsbury enjoyed so much as the breakfast hour, when his beautiful daughter and his aristocratic wife amused themselves by the discussion of letters and papers that had come by post; then Lady Estelle seemed more lively, and the very sunshine of the duke's life was the happiness of his only child. As the day passed on she grew more listless, and the expression of ennui on her face grew deeper, but with the morning light she had something of the brightness that had distinguished her as a girl.
On this morning the sun shone so fairly, the roses were blooming, the birds were singing, the whole world was bright and gay. The breakfast-room was, in itself, the very picture of comfort and luxury; the sunbeams sparkled on the costly silver, the flowers filled the air with fragrance. The duke, a fine, handsome man, the very type of an English nobleman, sat with a most contented smile on his face. The cup of tea by his plate was odorous as a bouquet of flowers. The duchess, proud and stately, was deeply engaged in the perusal of a closely-written letter. Lady Estelle, looking more beautiful than ever in the morning light, was busily engaged in doing nothing; neither book nor paper interested her; but to one who knew that fair face well, there was a cloud upon it, an expression of unusual languor and thought.
Suddenly the duke addressed his wife:
"Did I tell you, my dear, that I met my model farmer yesterday, the honest man who amused you so much by his uncertainty over his hands and feet?"
"I remember Mark Brace," said the duchess; "how could I ever forget him? He seemed to me the most honest and sensible man I ever met."
"You remember, perhaps, the pretty child, and the romantic story?"
"Yes; and I never prophesied good for that child," rejoined the duchess.
Lady Estelle raised her fair, proud face.