"Certainly not," said the Earl. "Many of our best families are untitled."
"Titles—no," repeated Lady Lansmere; "but ancestors—yes."
"Ah, my mother," said Harley with his most sad and quiet smile, "it is fated that we shall never agree. The first of our race is ever the one we are most proud of; and pray, what ancestors had he? Beauty, virtue, modesty, intellect—if these are not nobility enough for a man, he is a slave to the dead."
With these words Harley took up his hat and made towards the door.
"You said yourself, 'Noblesse oblige,'" said the Countess, following him to the threshold; "we have nothing more to add."
Harley slightly shrugged his shoulders, kissed his mother's hand, whistled to Nero, who started up from a doze by the window, and went his way.
"Does he really go abroad next week?" said the Earl.
"So he says."
"I am afraid there is no chance for Lady Mary," resumed Lord Lansmere, with a slight but melancholy smile.
"She has not intellect enough to charm him. She is not worthy of Harley," said the proud mother.