"Ha—a publican!" exclaimed the Duchess and positively sniffed, though only as a really great lady may.
"—there is a farm near by, I shall probably—"
"Ha—a farmer!" snorted the Duchess.
"—raise horses, madam, and with Natty Bell's assistance I hope—"
"Horses!" cried the Duchess, and sniffed again. "Horses, indeed! Absurd! Preposterous! Quite ridiculous—hush, sir! I have some questions to ask you."
"Well, Duchess?"
"Firstly, sir, what of your dreams? What of London? What of Society?"
"They were—only dreams," answered Barnabas; "in place of them I shall have—my father and Natty Bell."
"Secondly, sir,—what of your fine ambitions?"
"It will be my ambition, henceforth, to breed good horses, madam."