And
when she found herself altogether neglected on the following day,
and that the slightly valuable impression which she had made on her
aunt was apparently gone, she did for half an hour think in earnest
of the Paragon and Patagonia. But after a while she called to mind
all that she knew of great efforts successfully made in opposition
to almost overwhelming difficulties. She had heard of forlorn
hopes, and perhaps in her young days had read something of Caesar
still clinging to his Commentaries as he struggled in the waves.
This was her forlorn hope, and she would be as brave as any soldier
of them all. Lord Rufford's embraces were her Commentaries, and let
the winds blow and the waves roll as they might she would still
cling to them. After lunch she spoke to her aunt with great
courage,--as the Duchess thought with great effrontery. "My uncle
wouldn't speak to Lord Rufford before he went?"
"How could he speak to a man who ran away from his house in that
way?"
"The running away, as you call it, aunt, did not take place till
two days after I had told you all about it. I thought he would have
done as much as that for his brother's daughter."
"I don't believe in it at all," said the Duchess sternly.
"Don't believe in what, aunt? You don't mean to say that you don't
believe that Lord Rufford has asked me to be his wife!" Then she
paused, but the Duchess absolutely lacked the courage to express
her conviction again.
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