Long after the Duke had wearied of his passing fancy Miss J. clung to the idea that she could yet draw him to her. Her secluded life, given up to good works and pious meditations, and still later her confirmed ill-health, heightened her unworldliness, and rendered it more than ever difficult for her to see the impossibility of what in the eyes of the Duke and his family and friends would have been a misalliance.
It is perhaps uncharitable to suppose that Miss J. intended by her assumed reluctance to grant the Duke a third interview to force him to make a formal declaration of his intentions and ask her hand in marriage. If this, however, was her plan, it met with a signal failure. Clearly nothing was farther from the Duke's thoughts than to make himself the butt of popular ridicule by taking a wife forty-five years younger than himself, and of retired even though perfectly respectable social position. Besides that, it can hardly be wondered at if the Duke, a man free from binding domestic ties, were not in a humor to place permanently at his elbow so strict a mentor as Miss J., no matter how pretty she might be. The prudishness and piety that were fascinating in a beautiful woman seldom seen, would wax wearisome in the most charming creature bound to him by indissoluble ties.
CHAPTER IV.
SMOOTH WATERS.
London, June 2, 1835.
My dear Miss J.,—I received your Note. We perfectly understand each other; and with your permission I will call upon you to-morrow at three o'clock.
There is only one point that I wish to explain in reference to our last meeting. There might have been a difference of Manner. There was none of feeling.
You told me that you had written to me; and I certainly was anxious to possess your Letters. You certainly wished to take them out of the Paquet; but if I had thought that your reluctance to give them was deeply felt, you may rely upon it that I would not have pressed to have them.
At all events my perusal of them has occasioned an explanation which can do no Harm.