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PHP Web 2 0 Mashup Projects Practical PHP Mashups
with Google Maps Flickr Amazon YouTube MSN Search
Yahoo Create practical mashups in PHP grabbing MSN
Search Yahoo Last fm and 411Sync com 1st Ed. Edition
Shu-Wai Chow Digital Instant Download
Author(s): Shu-Wai Chow
ISBN(s): 9781847190888, 184719088X
Edition: 1st Ed.
File Details: PDF, 10.86 MB
Year: 2007
Language: english
PHP Web 2.0 Mashup Projects

Create practical mashups in PHP, grabbing and

mixing data from Google Maps, Flickr, Amazon,
YouTube, MSN Search, Yahoo!, Last.fm, and
411Sync.com

Shu-Wai Chow

BIRMINGHAM - MUMBAI
PHP Web 2.0 Mashup Projects
Create practical mashups in PHP, grabbing and mixing data from
Google Maps, Flickr, Amazon, YouTube, MSN Search, Yahoo!,
Last.fm, and 411Sync.com

Copyright © 2007 Packt Publishing

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior written
permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embedded in
critical articles or reviews.

Every effort has been made in the preparation of this book to ensure the accuracy of
the information presented. However, the information contained in this book is sold
without warranty, either express or implied. Neither the author, Packt Publishing,
nor its dealers or distributors will be held liable for any damages caused or alleged to
be caused directly or indirectly by this book.

Packt Publishing has endeavored to provide trademark information about all the
companies and products mentioned in this book by the appropriate use of capitals.
However, Packt Publishing cannot guarantee the accuracy of this information.

First published: September, 2007

Production Reference: 1070907

Published by Packt Publishing Ltd.

32 Lincoln Road
Olton
Birmingham, B27 6PA, UK.

ISBN 978-1-847190-88-8

www.packtpub.com

Cover Image by Vinayak Chittar ([email protected])

 Credits

Author Project Manager

Shu-Wai Chow Patricia Weir

Reviewer Project Coordinator

Stoyan Stefanov Abhijeet Deobhakta

Senior Acquisition Editor Indexer

Douglas Paterson Bhushan Pangaonkar

Development Editor Proofreader

Nikhil Bangera Cathy Cumberlidge

Technical Editors Production Coordinator

Adil Rizwan Shantanu Zagade
Ajay. S
Cover Designer
Editorial Manager Shantanu Zagade
Dipali Chittar
 About the Author

Shu-Wai Chow has worked in computer programming and information

technology for the past eight years. He started his career in Sacramento, California,
spending four years as the webmaster for Educaid, a First Union Company, and
another four years at Vision Service Plan as an application developer. Through the
years, he has become proficient in Java, JSP, PHP, ColdFusion, ASP, LDAP, XSLT,
and XSL-FO. Shu has also been the volunteer webmaster and a feline adoption
counselor for several animal welfare organizations in Sacramento.

He is currently a software engineer at Antenna Software in Jersey City, New Jersey,

and is finishing his studies in Economics at Rutgers, the State University of
New Jersey.

Born in the British Crown Colony of Hong Kong, Shu did most of his alleged
growing up in Palo Alto, California. He lives on the Jersey Shore with seven very
demanding cats, four birds that are too smart for their own good, a tail-less bearded
dragon, a betta who needs her tank cleaned, a dermestid beetle colony, a cherished
Fender Stratocaster, and a beloved, saint-like fiancé.

I received a lot of help from many different people and companies

on this book.

First and foremost, thank you to the people at Packt Publishing,

especially Doug Paterson, Nikhil Bangera, Adil Rizwan, and
Abhijeet Deobhakta, for a professional working experience, giving
me this opportunity, and once again, for their faith in me (which I
still don’t completely understand).

Thank you, Stoyan Stefanov, for your great review comments. Your
insight and suggestions really improved this book’s content and
personally pushed me further.
Each chapter deserves some special attention.

Chapter 2: Thank you to the folks at the UPC Internet Database and
Amazon, Inc. for their permission. Thanks especially to everyone at
UPC Internet Database for answering my questions.

Chapter 3: Thank you to Yahoo! and Microsoft for their permission,

and the prompt service and assistance
�����������������������������������������
from their legal departments.
Special thanks are given to Data Access Corporation and Vincent
Oorsprong for their helpful and educational SOAP services. Data
Access Worldwide (www.dataccess.com) delivers advanced
products and services to help customers build great applications and
get more value from their data.

Chapter 4: Thanks to the people at YouTube and Last.fm for their

permission. Special thanks go to Last.fm for their interest in my
project.

Chapter 5: Thank you to 411Sync and the California Highway Patrol

for their assistance. A big thank you goes to �������������������
Manish Lachwani of
411Sync, who is probably the most patient person in the world.

Chapter 6: Thank you to Google, Flickr, and Jo Walsh for permission

to be included. A big thanks to Jo Walsh for her help and insight.
Special thanks to the people at Google, whose enthusiasm made me
think that this book wasn’t such a nutty idea.

I neglected to thank Ed Hansen and Keith Easterbrook in the last

book. They were the ones that forced us to use WebSphere Application
Developer. Without WSAD, I never would have used Eclipse, and I
never would have used PHPEclipse, which means that I never would
have written the first book, and without the first book, there would
not be this second book. So, thank you, gentlemen, and I apologize
for the oversight.

Thank you to Kaya’s Kitchen of Belmar, New Jersey for making

the best vegetarian cuisine in the whole wide world. If you ever
find yourself on the Jersey Shore, you absolutely must visit this
restaurant.

Finally, all hail the Palo Alto Duck Pond, Hobee’s on El Camino and
Arastradero, Dodger Stadium, and the Davis Greenbelt.
 About the Reviewer

Stoyan Stefanov is a Yahoo! web developer, Zend Certified Engineer, book author
and contributor to the international PHP community. His personal blog is at
http://www.phpied.com.
Once upon a time, a diviner told me that I would meet an angel on
Earth in the month of February. This book is dedicated to that
February angel and love of my life, Anneliese Strunk.
You have brought more happiness, inspiration,
and joy to my life than I could ever have imagined.
 Table of Contents
Preface 1
Chapter 1: Introduction to Mashups 7
Web 2.0 and Mashups 9
Importance of Data 9
User Communities 10
How We Will Create Mashups 11
More Mashups 12
Chapter 2: Buy it on Amazon 13
Project Overview 13
XML-RPC 14
XML-RPC Structure 14
XML-RPC Request 15
Arrays 18
Struct 19
XML-RPC Response 20
Working with XML-RPC in PHP 21
Making an XML-RPC Request 22
Serializing Data with XML-RPC Encode Request 22
Calling XML-RPC Using Sockets 29
Processing an XML-RPC Response 31
Creating an XML-RPC Parser Class 32
Testing Our XML-RPC Parser Class 33
Using PEAR to Handle XML-RPC 35
REST 38
Working with REST in PHP 39
Making a REST Request 40
A GET and POST Refresher 40
Using Sockets to Initiate a REST Request 41
Creating GET and POST Request Functions 42
Making a REST Parser Class 43
Table of Contents

Testing Our REST Parser Class 45

Processing a REST Response 47
Basic Walkthrough with PHP and SAX 48
Creating a SAX Parser Class 54
Internet UPC Database API 58
Amazon API 61
A Tour of ECS 62
Anatomy of an ECS REST Request 63
Location of Service 63
Mashing Up 65
Product Lookups 66
Handling Amazon's XML Responses 70
Summary 79
Chapter 3: Make Your Own Search Engine 81
Project Overview 81
SOAP 82
Web Services Descriptor Language (WSDL) With XML Schema Data (XSD)
83
Basic WSDL Structure 84
definitions Element 84
types Element 85
message Element 91
portType Element 93
binding Element 95
service Element 96
The SOAP Message 97
Envelope 97
Header 98
Body 98
Fault 100
PHP's SoapClient 101
Creating Parameters 102
Instantiate the SoapClient 103
Instantiating in WSDL Mode 104
Instantiating in Non-WSDL Mode 104
Making the Call and Using SoapClient Methods 105
Handling the SOAP Response 108
Microsoft Live Search Web Service 112
Using Search 112
Yahoo! Search Web Service 116
Using Web Search 116
Mashing Up 119
Summary 123

[ ii ]
 Table of Contents

Chapter 4: Your Own Video Jukebox 125

Project Overview 125
XSPF 126
RSS 129
YouTube Overview 136
YouTube Developer API 138
Last.fm Overview 140
Audioscrobbler Web Services 141
Parsing With PEAR 142
Package Installation and Usage 143
File_XSPF 144
Services_YouTube 147
XML_RSS 149
Mashing Up 153
Mashup Architecture 153
Main Page 154
Navigation Page 154
Content Page 156
Using the Mashup 158
Summary 161
Chapter 5: Traffic Incidents via SMS 163
Project Overview 163
Screen Scraping the PHP Way 164
Parsing with DOM Functions 167
Basic Element and Attribute Parsing 168
Testing the Schema 171
More About PHP's Implementation of the DOM 172
411Sync.com API 179
Creating Your Mobile Search Keyword 180
Name Your Keyword 181
Format the Users will Use when They Use Your Search 182
HTTP Location of the XML Data 182
California Highway Patrol Incident Page 183
Mashing Up 190
The Incident Class 191
The DOM Parser Class 191
The CHP DOM Parser Class 193
Creating the Feed Page 199
Testing and Deploying 200
Summary 201

[ iii ]
Table of Contents

Chapter 6: London Tube Photos 203

Project Overview 203
Preliminary Planning 204
Finding Tube Information 205
Integrating Google Maps and Flickr Services 206
Application Sequence 207
Resource Description Framework (RDF) 207
SPARQL 210
Analyzing the Query Subject 210
Anatomy of a SPARQL Query 211
Writing SPARQL WHERE Clauses 213
Basic Principles 213
A Simple Query 214
Querying for Types 217
Ordering, Limiting, and Offsetting 219
UNION and DISTINCT 220
More SPARQL Features 221
RDF API for PHP (RAP) 221
XMLHttpRequest Object 224
XMLHttpRequest Object Overview 226
Using the Object 226
Creating the Object 226
Making the HTTP Request 227
Creating and Using the Callback 228
JavaScript Object Notation (JSON) 231
JavaScript Objects Review 231
JSON Structure 232
Accessing JSON Properties 233
Serializing the JSON Response 234
Google Maps API 235
Creating a Map 235
Geocoding 236
Markers 239
Events 240
InfoWindow Box 240
Flickr Services API 243
Executing a Search 244
Interpreting Service Results 245
Retrieving a Photo or a Photo's Page 247
Mashing Up 249
Building and Populating the Database 249
Examining the File 249
Creating Our Database Schema 250

[ iv ]
 Table of Contents

Building SPARQL Queries 251

Stations Query 252
Lines Query 253
Lines to Stations Query 253
Database Population Script 254
The TubeSource Database Interface Class 261
The Main User Interface 262
Using Flickr Services with AJAX 267
Creating an XMLHttpRequest Proxy 267
Modifying the Main JavaScript 269
Making the XMLHttpRequest 269
Race Conditions 271
Parsing the AJAX Response 273
Summary 278
Index 279

[]
 Preface
A mashup is a web page or application that combines data from two or more
external online sources into an integrated experience. This book is your entryway to
the world of mashups and Web 2.0. You will create PHP projects that grab data from
one place on the Web, mix it up with relevant information from another place on the
Web and present it in a single application. All the mashup applications used in the
book are built upon free tools and are thoroughly explained. You will find all the
source code used to build the mashups in the code download section on our website.

This book is a practical tutorial with five detailed and carefully explained case
studies to build new and effective mashup applications.

What This Book Covers

You will learn how to write PHP code to remotely consume services like Google
Maps, Flickr, Amazon, YouTube, MSN Search, Yahoo!, Last.fm, and the Internet UPC
Database, not to mention the California Highway Patrol Traffic data! You will also
learn about the technologies, data formats, and protocols needed to use these web
services and APIs, and some of the freely-available PHP tools for working with them.

You will understand how these technologies work with each other and see how
to use this information, in combination with your imagination, to build your own
cutting-edge websites.

Chapter 1 provides an overview of mashups: what a mashup is, and why you would
want one.

In Chapter 2 we create a basic mashup, and go shopping. We will simply look up

products on Amazon.com based on the Universal Product Code (UPC). To do this,
we cover two basic web services to get our feet wet — XML-RPC and REST. The
Internet UPC database is an XML-RPC-based service, while Amazon uses REST.
Preface

We will create code to call XML-RPC and REST services. Using PHP's SAX function,
we create an extensible object-oriented parser for XML. The mashup covered in this
chapter integrates information taken from Amazon's E-commerce Service (ECS) with
the Internet UPC database.

In Chapter 3, we create a custom search engine using the technology of MSN, and
Yahoo! The chapter starts with an introduction to SOAP, the most complex of the
web service protocols. SOAP relies heavily on other standards like WSDL and XSD,
which are also covered in readable detail. We take a look at a WSDL document and
learn how to figure out what web services are available from it, and what types of
data are passed. Using PHP 5's SoapClient extension, we then interact with SOAP
servers to grab data. We then finally create our mashup, which gathers web search
results sourced from Microsoft Live and Yahoo!

For the mashup in Chapter 4, we use the API from the video repository site YouTube,
and the XML feeds from social music site Last.fm. We will take a look at three
different XML-based file formats from those two sites: XSPF for song playlists, RSS
for publishing frequently updated information, and YouTube's custom XML format.
We will create a mashup that takes the songs in two Last.fm RSS feeds and
queries YouTube to retrieve videos for those songs. Rather than creating our own
XML-based parsers to parse the three formats, we have used parsers from PEAR,
one for each of the three formats. Using these PEAR packages, we create an
object-oriented abstraction of these formats, which can be consumed by our
mashup application.

In Chapter 5, we screen-scrape from the California Highway Patrol website. The

CHP maintains a website of traffic incidents. This site auto-refreshes every minute,
ensuring the user gets live data about accidents throughout the state of California.
This is very valuable if you are in front of a computer. If you are out and about
running errands, it would be fairly useless. However, our mashup will use the web
service from 411Sync.com to accept SMS messages from mobile users to deliver these
traffic incidents to users.

We've thrown almost everything into Chapter 6! In this chapter, we use RDF
documents, SPARQL, RAP, Google Maps, Flickr, AJAX, and JSON. We create a
geographically-centric way to present pictures from Flickr on Google Maps. We see
how to read RDF documents and how to extract data from them using SPARQL and
RAP for RDF. This gets us the latitude and longitude of London tube stations. We
display them on a Google Map, and retrieve pictures of a selected station from Flickr.
Our application needs to communicate with the API servers for which we use
AJAX and JSON, which is emerging as a major data format. The biggest pitfall in
this AJAX application is race conditions, and we will learn various techniques to
overcome these.

[]
 Preface

What You Need for This Book

To follow along with the projects and use the example code in this book, you will
need a web server running PHP 5.0 or higher and Apache 1.3.

All of the examples assume you are running the web server on your local work
station, and all development is done locally.

Additionally, two projects have special requirements. In Chapter 5, you will need
access to a web server that can be reached externally from the Internet. In Chapter
6, you will need a MySQL server. Again, we assume you are running the MySQL
server locally and it is properly configured.

To quickly install PHP, Apache, and MySQL, check out XAMPP

(http://www.apachefriends.org/en/xampp.html). XAMPP is a one-step
installer for PHP, Apache, and MySQL, among other things.

XAMPP is available for Windows, Linux, and Mac OS X. However, many standard
Linux distributions already have PHP, Apache, and MySQL installed. Check your
distribution's documentation on how to activate them. Mac OS X already has Apache
and PHP installed by default. You can turn them on by enabling Web Sharing in
your Sharing Preferences.

MySQL can be installed as a binary downloaded from MySQL.com

(http://dev.mysql.com/downloads/mysql/4.1.html).

Conventions
In this book, you will find a number of styles of text that distinguish between
different kinds of information. Here are some examples of these styles, and an
explanation of their meaning.

There are three styles for code. Code words in text are shown as follows: "We can
include other contexts through the use of the include directive."

A block of code will be set as follows:

<?php
$aDom = new DOMDocument();
try {
$aDom->loadHTMLFile('examplehtml.html');
} catch (Exception $ex) {
$aDom = false;
}

[]
Discovering Diverse Content Through
Random Scribd Documents
T h e P ro j e c t G u t e n b e r g e B o o k o f T h e D u k e ' s
Daughter; and, The Fugitives; vol. 1/3
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States
and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where
you are located before using this eBook.

Title: The Duke's Daughter; and, The Fugitives; vol. 1/3

Author: Mrs. Oliphant

Release date: November 28, 2020 [eBook #63901]

Most recently updated: October 18, 2024

Language: English

Credits: Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team

at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from
images
available at The Internet Archive)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DUKE'S

DAUGHTER; AND, THE FUGITIVES; VOL. 1/3 ***
 THE DUKE’S DAUGHTER

AND

THE FUGITIVES

“Lady, you come hither to be married to this count?”

“I do.”
—Much Ado about Nothing.

The Duke’s Daughter

AND

The Fugitives
BY

MRS OLIPHANT
 IN THREE VOLUMES

VOL. I.

WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS

EDINBURGH AND LONDON
MDCCCXC

TO

A . W. K I N G L A K E , E s q . ,
THE GRACIOUS, KIND, AND

GENTLE READER,

WHOM IT IS THE PRIDE OF A HUMBLE NOVELIST

TO PLEASE,

This Little Book

IS INSCRIBED.
 NOTE.
It is perhaps necessary to explain that the following story was published in
serial form under the title of ‘Lady Jane,’ but the subsequent use of a similar
title for another work has suggested the expediency of a change of name.
CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
THE DUKE’S DAUGHTER—
CHAP. PAGE
I. HER PARENTS, 3
II. HERSELF, 23
III. HER LOVER, 45
IV. A DISAPPOINTMENT, 74
V. THE ANTICIPATIONS OF LADY JANE, 101
VI. THE ART OF STRATEGY, 128
VII. SUSPENSE, 155
VIII. THE DECISIVE MOMENT, 178
IX. ACTING FOR HERSELF, 218
X. A MOMENTOUS INTERVIEW, 234

THE DUKE’S DAUGHTER.

 C H A P T E R I.

HER PARENTS.

The Duchess was a very sensible woman.

This was her character, universally acknowledged. She might not
perhaps be so splendid a person as a duchess ought to be. She had never
been beautiful, nor was she clever in the ordinary sense of the word; but she
was in the full sense of the word a sensible woman. She had, there is no
doubt, abundant need for this faculty in her progress through the world.
Hers had not been a holiday existence, notwithstanding her high position at
the head of one of the proudest houses and noblest families in England. It is
a sort of compensation to us for the grandeur of the great to believe that,
after all, their wealth and their high position do them very little good.

“The village maidens of the plain

Salute me lowly as they go,
Envious they mark my silken train,
Nor think a countess can have woe.

The simple nymphs! they little know

How far more happy’s their estate,
To smile for joy than sigh for woe,
To be content than to be great.”

So we all like to believe. But after all, it is highly doubtful whether there is
more content, as the moralists of the eighteenth century imagined, in a
cottage than in a palace; and the palace has the best of it in so many other
ways. The Duchess had met with many vexations in her life, but no more
than we all meet with, nor of a severer kind; and she had her coronet, and
her finery, and her beautiful ducal houses, and the devotion of all that
surrounded her, to the good. So while we have no occasion to be envious,
we have none, on the other hand, to plume ourselves upon the advantages of
humble position. Duchess or no duchess, however, this lady had sense, a
precious gift. And she had need to have it, as the following narrative will
show.
 For the Duke, on his side, did not possess that most valuable quality. He
was far more proud than a duke has any occasion to be. On that pinnacle of
rank, if on any height imaginable, a man may permit himself to think
simply of his position, and to form no over-estimate of his own grandeur.
But the Duke of Billingsgate was very proud, and believed devoutly that he
himself and his family tree, and the strawberry-leaves which grew on the
top of it, overshadowed the world. He thought it made an appreciable
difference to the very sunshine; and as for the county under his shadow, he
felt towards it as the old gods might have felt towards the special lands of
which they were the patrons tutelary. He expected incense upon all the
altars, and a sort of perpetual adoration. It would have pleased him to have
men swear by him and dedicate churches in his honour, had such things
been in accordance with modern manners: he would have felt it to be only
natural. He liked people to come into his presence with diffidence and awe;
and though he was frank of accost, and of elaborate affability, as an English
gentleman is obliged to be in these days, talking to the commonalty almost
as if he forgot they were his inferiors, he never did forget the fact, and it
offended him deeply if they appeared to forget it in word or deed. He was
very gracious to the little county ladies who would come to dine at the
Castle when he was in the country, but he half wondered how they could
have the courage to place a little trembling hand upon his ducal arm, and he
liked those all the better who did tremble and were overcome by the honour.
He had spent enormously in his youth, keeping up the state and splendour
which he thought were necessary to his rank, and which he still thought
necessary though his means were now straitened. And it cannot be denied
that he was angry with the world because his means were straitened, and
felt it a disgrace to the country that one of its earliest dukedoms should be
humiliated to the necessity of discharging superfluous footmen and
lessening the number of horses in the stables. He thought this came, like so
many other evils, of the radicalism of the times. Dukes did not need to
retrench when things were as they ought to be, and a strong paramount
Government held the reins of State. The Duke, however, retrenched as little
as was possible. He did it always under protest. When strong
representations on the part of his agents and lawyers induced him against
his will to cut off one source of expense, he had a great tendency to burst
out into another on an unforeseen occasion and a different side—a tendency
which made him very difficult to manage and a great trouble to all
connected with him.
This was indeed the chief cross in the life of the Duchess; but even that
she took with great sense, not dwelling upon it more than she could help,
and comforting herself with the thought that Hungerford, who was her
eldest son, had great capabilities in the opposite direction, and was exactly
the sort of man to rebuild the substantial fortunes of the family. He had
already done a great deal in that way by resolutely marrying a great heiress
in spite of his father’s absurd opposition. The Duke had thought his heir
good enough for a princess, and had something as near hysterics as it would
be becoming for a duke to indulge in when he ascertained that obstinate
young man’s determination to marry a lady whose money had been made in
the City; but Hungerford was thirty, and his father had no control over him.
There was, however, something left which he had entirely in his own hands,
his daughter—Lady Jane. She had all the qualities which the Duke most
esteemed in his race. She resembled in features that famous duchess who
had the good fortune to please Charles II., but with a proud, and reserved,
and stately air, which had not distinguished that famous beauty. The repose
of her manners was such as can be seen only on the highest levels of
society. Her face would wear an unchanged expression for days together,
and for almost as long a period the echoes around her would be undisturbed
by anything like the vulgarity of speech. She was a child after her father’s
own heart. Though it is a derogation to a family to descend through the
female line, his Grace could almost have put up with this, had it been
possible to transfer the succession from Hungerford and his plebeian wife to
that still, and fair, and stately maiden. Jane, Duchess of Billingsgate (in her
own right). He liked the thought. He felt that there would be a certain
propriety even in permitting the race to die out in such a last crowning
flower of dignity and honour. But no day-dream, as he knew, could have
been more futile; for the City lady had brought three boys already to
perpetuate the race, and there was no telling how many more were coming.
Hungerford declared loudly that he meant to put them into trade when they
grew up, and that his grandfather’s business was to be Bobby’s inheritance.
Bobby! He had been called after that grandfather. Such a name had never
been heard before among the Altamonts. The Duke took very little notice of
any of the children, and none whatever of that City brat. But, alas! what
could he do? There was no shutting them out from a single honour. Bobby
would be Lord Robert in spite of him, even at the head of his City
grandfather’s firm.
But the marriage of Lady Jane was a matter still to be concluded, and in
that her father was determined to have his own way. There had not been the
violent competition for her beautiful hand which might have been expected.
Dukes are scant at all times, and there did not happen at that time to be one
marriageable duke with a hand to offer; and smaller people were alarmed by
the grandeur of her surroundings, by the character of her papa, and by her
own stateliness of manner. There were a few who moved about the outskirts
of the magnificent circle in which alone Lady Jane was permitted to appear,
and cast wistful glances at her, but did not venture further. The Marquis of
Wodensville made her a proposal, but he was sixty, and the Duke did not
think the inducement sufficient to interpose his parental authority; and Mr
Roundel, of Bishop’s Roundel, made serious overtures. If family alone
could have carried the day, the claim of this gentleman would have been
supreme, and his Grace did not lightly reject that great commoner, a man
who would not have accepted a title had the Queen herself gone on her
knees to him. But he showed signs of a desire to play this big fish, to
procrastinate and keep him in suspense, and that was a treatment which a
Roundel was not likely to submit to. Other proposals of less importance
never even reached Lady Jane’s ears; and the subject gave him no concern.
It is true that once or twice Lady Hungerford had made a laughing remark
on the subject of Jane’s marriage, which was like her underbred
impertinence. But the Duke never did more than turn his large light-grey
eyes solemnly upon her when she was guilty of any such assault upon the
superior race. He never condescended to reply. He did very much the same
thing when the Duchess with a sigh once made a similar observation. He
turned his head and fixed his eyes upon her; but the Duchess was used to
him and was not overawed. “I cannot conceive what you can mean,” he
said.
“It is not hard to understand. I don’t expect to be immortal, and I confess
I should like to see Jane settled.”
“Settled!” his Grace said—the very word was derogatory to his daughter.
“Well, the term does not matter. She is very affectionate and clinging,
though people do not think so. I should like to make sure that she has some
one to take care of her when I die.”
 “You may be assured,” said the Duke, “that Jane will want no one to take
care of her as you say. I object to hear such a word as clinging applied to
my daughter. I am quite capable, I hope, of taking care of her.”
“But, dear Gus, you are no more immortal than I am,” said his wife. He
disliked to be called by his Christian name in any circumstances, but Gus
had always driven him frantic, as, indeed, it is to be feared the Duchess was
aware. She was annoyed too, or she would not have addressed him so.
The Duke looked at her once more, but made no reply. He could not say
anything against this assertion: had there been anything better than
immortality he would have put in a claim for that, but as it is certainly an
article of belief that all men are mortal, he was wise enough to say nothing.
Such incidents as these, however, disturbed him slightly. The sole effect of
his wife’s interference was to make him look at Lady Jane with more
critical eyes. The first time he did so there seemed to him no cause
whatever for concern. She had come in from a walk, and was recounting to
her mother what she had seen and heard. She had a soft flush on her cheek,
and was if anything too animated and youthful in her appearance. She had
met the great Lady Germaine, who had brought a party to see the Dell in the
neighbourhood of Billings Castle. The Duke did not care for intruders upon
his property, but it had been impossible to refuse permission to such a
leader of fashion as Lady Germaine. “There were all the Germaines, of
course, and May Plantagenet, and—Mr Winton,” said Lady Jane. She made
a scarcely perceptible pause before the last name. The Duke took no notice
of this, nor did he even remark what she said. “No longer young!” he said to
himself, “she is too young,” and dismissed Lady Hungerford’s gibes and the
Duchess’s sigh with indignation. He did not even think of it again until next
season, when Jane came to breakfast late one morning after a great ball, and
made a languid remark in answer to her mother’s question. “There was
scarcely any one there,” she said with something between a yawn and a
sigh: half London had been there; but still it was not what his daughter said
that attracted his attention. He saw as he looked at her a slight, the very
slightest, indentation in the delicate oval of Lady Jane’s cheek. The
perfection of the curve was just broken. It might only have been a dimple,
but she was not in the mood which reveals dimples. There went a little chill
to the Duke’s heart at the sight. Passée? Impossible; years and years must
go before that word could be applied to his daughter; but still he felt sure
Lady Hungerford must have remarked it: no, it was not a hollow; but no
doubt with her vulgar long sight she must have remarked it, and would say
everywhere that dear Jane was certainly going off. The Duke never took
any notice apparently of these sallies of his daughter-in-law, but in reality
there was nothing of which he stood in so much dread.
The Duchess on her side was well acquainted with that hollow. It was a
hollow, very slight, sometimes disappearing altogether; but there it was. She
had awakened to a consciousness of its existence one day suddenly, though
it had evidently taken some time to come to that point. And since then it had
seldom been out of the Duchess’s mind. She had no doubt that other people
had discovered it before now, and made malicious remarks upon it: for if
she observed it who was so anxious to make the best of her child, what
would they do whose object was the reverse? But what did it matter what
any one said? There it was, which was the great thing. It spoke with a voice
which nobody could silence, of Jane’s youth passing away, of her freshness
wearing out, of her bloom fading. Was she to sit there and grow old while
her father wove his fictions about her? It had given the Duchess many a
thought. She knew very well what all this princely expenditure would lead
to. Hungerford would not be much the worse; he had his wife’s fortune to
fall back upon, and perhaps he would not feel himself called upon to take
on himself the burden of his father’s debts after he was gone. But for the
Duke himself, if he lived, and his family, the Duchess, looking calmly on
ahead, knew what must happen. Things would come to a crash sooner or
later, and everything that could be sacrificed would have to be sacrificed.
Rank would not save them. It might put off bankruptcy to the last possible
moment, but it would not avert it altogether; and the moment would come
when everything must change, and a sort of noble exile, or at least seclusion
in the country, if nothing worse, would be their fate. And Jane? If she were
to be left to her father’s disposal, what would be the end of Jane? She would
have to descend from her pedestal, and learn what it was to be poor—that
is, as dukes’ daughters can be poor. The grandeur and largeness of her life
would fall away from her, and no new chapter in existence would come in
to modify the old, and make its changes an advantage rather than a
drawback. The Duchess said to herself that to go against her husband was a
thing she never had done; but there was a limit to a wife’s duty. She could
not let Jane be sacrificed while she stood aside and looked on. This was the
question which the Duchess had to solve. She was brought to it gradually,
her eyes being opened by degrees to other things not quite so evident as that
change in the oval of Jane’s perfect cheek. She found out why it was that
her daughter had yawned or sighed, and said, “There was nobody there,” of
the ball to which half London struggled to get admittance. On the very next
evening Lady Jane paid a humdrum visit to an old lady who was nobody in
particular, and came home with a pretty glow, and no hollow visible,
declaring that there had been a delightful little party, and that she had never
enjoyed herself so much. The Duchess felt that here was a mystery. It was
partly the ‘Morning Post’ that helped her to find it out, and partly the
unconscious revelations of Jane herself in her exhilaration. The ‘Morning
Post’ made it evident that a certain name was not in the list of the fine
people who had figured at my Lady Germaine’s ball, and Lady Jane
betrayed by a hundred unconscious little references that the bearer of that
name had been present at the other little reunion. The Duchess put this and
that together. She, too, no doubt would have liked to see her daughter a
duchess like herself; but, failing that, she preferred that Jane should be
happy in her own way. But the question was, had Jane courage enough to
take her own way? She had been supposed to have everything she wanted
all her life, and had been surrounded by every observance; but, as a matter
of fact, Jane had got chiefly what other people wanted, and had been
secretly satisfied that it should be so. Would she once in her life, against her
father and the world, be moved to stand up for herself? But this was what
the Duchess did not know.
 C H A P T E R II.

HERSELF.

A princess royal is always an interesting personage. The very title is

charming—there is about it a supreme heiress-ship, if not of practical
dominion, at least of the more delicate part of the inheritance. She has the
feminine rule, the kingdom of hearts, the homage of sentiment and
imagination. Even when she grows old the title retains a sweet and
penetrating influence, and in youth it is the very crown of visionary
greatness, an elevation without any vulgar elements. Lady Jane was the
Princess Royal of her father’s house. There had been just so much poetry in
his pride as to make him feel this beautifying characteristic of feminine
rank to be an addition (if any addition were possible) to his dukedom. And
she had been brought up in the belief that she was not as other girls were,
nor even as the little Lady Marys and Lady Augustas who in the eyes of the
world stood upon a similar eminence. She stood alone—the blood of the
Altamonts had reached its cream of sweetness, its fine quintessence in her
veins. Hungerford was very well in his way. He would be Duke when his
time came. The property, and lands, and titles would be vested in him; but
he had no such visionary altitude as his sister. He himself was quite aware
of the fact: he laughed, and was very well content to be rid of this visionary
representativeship, but he fully recognised that Jane was not to be
considered as an ordinary mortal, that she was the flower and crown of so
many generations, the last perfection to which the race could attain. And
with infinite modesty and humility of mind Lady Jane too perceived her
mission. She became aware of it very early, when other girls were still busy
with their skipping-ropes. It was a great honour to fall upon so young a
head. When she walked about the noble woods at Billings and dreamed as
girls do of the world before her, this sense of rank was never absent from
her mind: impossible to foresee what were the scenes through which it
might lead her. She heard a great deal of the evil state of public affairs—the
decadence of England, the advance of democracy, the approaching ruin in
which everything that was great and noble must soon be engulfed; and Lady
Jane took it all seriously, and felt it very possible that her fate might be that
of a virgin martyr to the cruel forces of revolution. For one time of her life
her favourite literature was the memoirs of those great and noble ladies, full
of charity and romance, who cast a pathetic glory upon the end of the old
régime in France, and died for crimes of which they were no way guilty,
paying the long arrears of oppression which they had done all they could to
modify. Jane took, as was natural, the political jeremiads of her father and
his friends with the matter-of-fact faith of youth, and she did not think that
even the guillotine was impossible. If it came to her lot—as, according to
all she heard, seemed likely—to maintain the cause of nobility to the last,
she was ready to walk to the scaffold like Marie Antoinette, holding her
head high, and smiling upon her assassins; or if it were possible to save the
country by another kind of self-devotion, she was prepared, though with
trembling, to inspire a nation or lead an army. These were the kind of
dreams she entertained at fifteen, which is the time when a girl is most alive
to the claims of patriotism, and can feel it possible that she too may be a
heroine. Older, she began to be less certain. Facts came in and confused
fancy. She saw no indications such as those which her books said had been
seen in France; everything was very peaceable, everybody very respectful
wherever she went. The common people looked at her admiringly when by
chance she drove with her mamma through the crowded streets. They
seemed all quite willing to acknowledge her position. She was greeted with
smiles instead of groans, and heroism seemed unnecessary.
Then there came a time when Lady Jane felt that it would probably be
her mission to be, if not a martyr, a benefactress to the world. It would be
right for her to move half royally, half angelically, through all the haunts of
wretchedness, and leave comfort and abundance behind. She imagined to
herself scenes like the great plague, times of famine and fever, in which her
sudden appearance, with succour of every kind about her, would bring an
immediate change of affairs and turn darkness into light. She did not know
—how should she?—what squalor and wretchedness were like, and this
great and successful mission never in her thoughts so much as soiled her
dress, and had nothing disgusting or repulsive in it. But by-and-by,
gradually there came a change also upon this phase of mind. A princess
royal has always the confidence that in her own ministrations there must be
a secret charm; but still she could not shut her eyes to the fact that in her
mother’s charities all was not plain sailing. And it became apparent to her
also, with a considerable shock, that there were many things which the
Duchess wished but had not means to do; which had a painful effect upon
Lady Jane’s dreams, and cut them short, confusing her whole horizon, and
arresting her imagination. She then paused, with considerable
bewilderment, not quite perceiving where the mission of her rank would
lead her. It must give her distinct duties, and a sphere above the common
quiescence of life—but what? Lady Jane was perplexed, and no longer saw
her way. Vulgar contact with the world was impossible to her; she shrank
from the public organisation of charity. Something else surely, something of
a more magnanimous kind, was to be hers to do. But in the meantime she
did not know what, and stood as it were upon the battlements of the castle
wall looking out, somewhat confused, but full of noble sentiment and desire
to perform the finest functions for the advantage of the world.
This was the aspect which pride of birth took in the pure and high-toned
spirit of the Duke’s daughter. She accepted undoubtingly the creed of her
race, and never questioned the fact that she was something entirely removed
from the crowd, elevated above the ordinary level of humanity. The
Duchess had little of this inborn conviction, but yet a duchess is a duchess,
and unless she is of a quite remarkable order of intelligence, it is very
unlikely that she should be able to separate herself from the prejudices of
her rank. As a matter of fact, the members of a duke’s household are not
ordinary mortals. Limits which are natural to us have nothing to do with
them. It must require a distinct independence and great force of mind to
realise that they are just of the same flesh and blood as the scullery-maid
and the shoe-boy; nay—for these are extravagant instances out of their
range of vision—even as the groom of the chambers and the housekeeper,
who are entirely devoted to their service. To doubt this, accordingly, never
entered the mind of Lady Jane; but anything resembling personal pride had
no existence in her. She did not know what it meant. There is no such
beautiful scope for pure humility of spirit as in the mind of a creature thus
fancifully elevated. It never occurred to her that it was her own excellence
which gave her this place. She was unfeignedly modest in every estimate of
herself, docile, ready to be guided, deferring to everybody. Never had there
been so obedient a child to nurses and governesses, nor one who accepted
reproof more sweetly, nor sought with more anxious grace to gain
approbation. It was difficult to rouse her to the exercise of her own
judgment at all. “Do you think so?” she would say to the humblest person
about her, with a sincere desire to please that person by accepting his or her
view rather than her own. Some people thought she had no opinion of her
own at all, but that was a mistake—though the pain it gave her to cross, or
vex, or contradict (in fact: in words she never was guilty of such a breach of
charity) any one, made her act upon her own opinion only in the very direst
necessity. But when her gentle foot struck against the limits of the sphere
which she thought boundless, Lady Jane remained for a long time
perplexed, confused, not knowing what the object might be which was to
fill her life. It was during this period that her cheek, though still so young,
began to own the slightest possible departure from the oval. It might have
been only the touch of a finger—but there it was. A slight line over Lady
Jane’s eyes appeared about the same time. She had become anxious, almost
wistful, wondering and perplexed. What was she to do with her life?
England (though, as they all said, going to destruction) showed no signs of
immediate ruin. In all likelihood the guillotine would not be set up in Lady
Jane’s time, and there would be no occasion for any sacrifice on her part.
She looked abroad into the world, and saw no need of her. She shrank,
indeed, from any actual step, notwithstanding her dreams and her
conviction that something great ought to come of her; and if she had
attempted to take any step whatever, she knew that the Duke and the
Duchess, and Hungerford and Susan, and all the connections and retainers
to the hundredth degree, would have rushed with dismay to prevent her.
Was it possible that by sitting calmly upon her elevated seat, and smiling
sweetly or frowning (as best she could) as the occasion required, she was
doing all she was called upon to do? In that case Lady Jane acknowledged
to herself with a sigh, that it was scarcely worth while being a princess
royal at all.
The reader will think it strange that all this time no idea of marriage, or
of the great preliminary of marriage, had entered her head. Perhaps it would
be rash to say that this was the case. But she had known from an early
period that there were very few people in the world who could pretend to
Lady Jane Altamont’s hand. She laughed when it was proposed to her to
marry the Marquis of Wodensville. “Oh no, papa, thank you,” she said.
“We have made alliances with his family before now. He has some of the
best blood in England in his veins,” said the Duke.
“Oh no, papa, thank you,” said Lady Jane. She did not ask any one’s
advice on this point. When there was that negotiation with Mr Roundel, of
Bishop’s Roundel, she was more interested, but not enough to disturb her
equilibrium when it was found he had gone off in disgust, and married his
sister’s governess. “I thought he could not be pure blood,” the Duke said.
Lady Jane smiled, and, it is to be feared, thought so too. The worst of high
rank is that it destroys perspective. She could not see the gradations below
her in the least. She knew the difference between her father’s rank and that
of a prince of the blood; and she knew exactly how countesses and
marchionesses ought to go in to dinner; but of the difference between
governesses and housekeepers and other attendants she knew little. The one
and the other were entirely out of her sphere. Her own old governess, whose
name was Strangford, she had always called Stranghy and been extremely
fond of—but then she was fond of all her old attendants, and thought of
them much in the same way. Then Lord Rushbrook, who was a Cabinet
Minister, had presented himself to her. She did not wish to marry him, but
she felt that here was something which was not rank (for he was only a
baron), and yet was equal to rank. It was almost the first gleam of such
enlightenment that came into her mind.
About this time, however, it certainly began to enter into Lady Jane’s
head that it is a general thing to marry, and that this is the way in which
most women solve the problem of their life. Perhaps because of the “offers”
she had received: perhaps because she had met at Lady Germaine’s, quite
promiscuously, on one of the many occasions on which she went there, a—
gentleman. She had met a great many gentlemen there and elsewhere
before; but on the particular occasion in question, she had gone by accident,
without design, and with no expectation of meeting any one. Fate thus lies
in wait for us, round a corner, when we think of it least. The gentleman was
nobody in particular. He had never been meant to meet the Duke’s daughter.
Indeed, had Lady Germaine had but the slightest prevision of what was
coming, she would have locked him into a closet, or tripped him over into
the river, rather than permitted such a thing to happen in her house. But she
did not know any more than other mortals, and the train was laid by the
Fates without any sort of connivance on the part of any human creature.
They all fell blindly, stupidly, accidentally into the net.
It was perhaps then, we say, when Lady Jane declined, either by her own
will or her father’s, her other matrimonial prospects, or perhaps when she
met the aforesaid gentleman, that it first really occurred to this high and
visionary maiden to take into consideration that which is the leading
incident in the lives of most women, the event which decides the question
whether their lives shall be lonely and in great measure objectless, or busy
and full of interest and occupation. Generally it is at a very early age that
girls first approach this question. But Lady Jane had been a stately little
person even in her cradle. She had not chosen to be kissed and caressed as
most children are. She had been gently proud and reticent through all her
girlhood. She had no youthful intimates to breathe into her mind this
suggestion—no girl-friend about to be married to initiate her into the joyous
fuss, the importance, the applauses and presents, the general commotion
which every wedding produces. She had, indeed, been present at a
marriage, but never at one which touched her at all in her immediate circle.
So that Lady Jane was nearly eight-and-twenty when it occurred to her as
possible that she too might marry and carry out in her own person the
universal lot. At first she had been shocked at herself, and had driven the
thought out of her mind with a delicacy which cannot but be called false,
though she was not conscious of its fictitious character. But the idea came
back: it caught her at unawares, it came over her sometimes with soft,
delicious suggestions. When she met a young mother with her children, a
sigh that was as soft as the west wind in spring would come out of Lady
Jane’s heart. How happy was that woman! how delightful all the cares that
beset her, the calls from this one and that, the constant demand upon her!
She had no time to ask what her life was worth, no leisure to speculate how
she could best fulfil its duties: all that and many another question was
solved for her. Lady Jane watched the happy mother with an interest which
was almost envy. And there were other thoughts which crossed her fancy
too, and awakened much that was dormant in her. Once when she was
sitting by her mother it suddenly came into her mind to contrast the
Duchess’s life with her own. She looked at her Grace’s fair and genial
presence, and watched her going over her accounts, and settling the affairs
of her great house. There were many lines on the Duchess’s brow. She was
an excellent economist on a great scale, as became her rank, but she had the
disadvantage of being thwarted on every side by the prodigalities of her
husband. It was not a happy moment at which to regard her; yet Lady Jane,
looking at her mother, was suddenly moved to ask herself whether the
Duchess would have been better, balancing all her outcomings and
incomings serenely without any one to disturb her, had she never married.
The question seemed a ludicrous one, but Lady Jane was prone to
imaginations. She conjured up before herself a picture of this lady in a
house where no one thwarted her; where there was no family to provide for,
no Susan to keep a watchful eye upon what she was doing, no Jane to
reflect upon her as an example of fate. She laughed to herself softly at the
impossibility of this imagination.
“What are you laughing at?” the Duchess asked, pausing with her pen in
her hand and a look which was indicative of anything but an easy mind.
“I was thinking—what if you had never married, mamma?”
The Duchess turned round upon her, opening her eyes wide with wonder.
“What if I had never married? Are you taking leave of your senses?” she
said. And indeed the idea was entirely ludicrous, for if she had never
married where would Jane herself have been? Jane laughed again very
softly, and a sudden wave of colour came over her face. She thought,
though her mother was not very happy, that it was better to be less happy
so, than more happy alone. It seemed to her that the absence of care would
have made her Grace much less interesting. Her comely figure seemed to
shrink and fall away as Jane thought, looking at it—and then her mind slid
imperceptibly from that fancy to a sudden realisation of herself. After all,
she had been thinking of herself all her life, what she should do, how she
should occupy herself, which theory of life was the best. But the young
woman whom she had met among her children had got that problem solved
for her; she had no time to think of herself at all: there were so many claims
upon her, soft little arms, voices like the birds, as well as bigger appeals,
more articulate; the chances were that from morning to night she had no
leisure in which to speculate on what was best for herself. The Duchess,
though a great lady, was in the same position. Even the least self-regarding
whose hands are free, think more about themselves than the selfish, whose
time and thoughts are taken up with other matters, can be able to do. This
thought made a great impression upon Lady Jane. Perhaps even these ideas
would have moved her little had it not been for that encounter at Lady
Germaine’s—but it was long before she brought herself so far as to
acknowledge that. She considered the question in the abstract form long
before she approached it in the concrete. And thus she came candidly to
conclude and acknowledge that the woman who is married has a career
before her which the unmarried woman can scarcely command. It was a
new idea to Lady Jane, but her mind was very candid, and she received this
as she received every other conclusion justified by reason. It would be good
that she should marry; and then she had met at Lady Germaine’s—a
gentleman. But who this gentleman was must be left for another chapter.
 C H A P T E R III.

HER LOVER.

It has never been fully explained how it was that a person so thoroughly
experienced in the world as Lady Germaine should have permitted an
acquaintance between Lady Jane and Mr Winton to ripen under her roof.
That she should have introduced them to each other was nothing, of course;
for in society every gentleman is supposed the equal of every other
gentleman, though he has not a penny and his next neighbour may be a
millionaire; and Lady Jane was gracious in her high-minded, maidenly way,
as a princess should be, to everybody, to the clergyman, and even to the
clergyman’s sons, dangerous and detrimental young persons who have to be
asked to country houses, a perpetual alarm to anxious parents who have
daughters. No hauteur, no exclusiveness was in Lady Jane. She was as
much withdrawn above the young squire as the young curate, and there was
no reason why Mr Winton, who was very personable, very well thought of,
and in no sense of the word detrimental, should not pay his homage to the
Duke’s daughter. But there it should have stopped. When she saw that there
was even the remotest chance that it might go further, Lady Germaine’s
duty was plain. She should have said firmly, “Not in my house.” It was not
to be supposed, indeed, that she could stop the course of mutual inclination,
prevent Mr Winton from making love to Lady Jane, or Lady Jane from
listening. But what she could, and indeed ought to, have done, was to say
plainly, “Meet where they will, it must not be in my house.” Her duty to the
Duke demanded this course of action. But it must be confessed that Lady
Germaine was very independent—too independent for a woman—and that
what she would not recognise was, that she had any duty at all to the Duke.
He might be the head of society in the county, but what did Lady Germaine
care? She laughed openly at the county society, and declared that she would
as soon throw in her lot among the farmers of the district as among the
squires, and that the Duke was an old—the pen of the historian almost
refuses to record the language this daring lady used—an old humbug. She
ventured to say this and lived. The Duke never knew how far she went, but
he disapproved of her, and considered her an irreverent person. He would
have checked his daughter’s intimacy with her had he been able. But the
Duchess did not see any harm in it. Her Grace’s opinion was that a little
enlivenment was what Jane wanted, and that even a slight exaggeration of
gaiety would do her no harm. Lady Germaine’s set was unimpeachable
though it loved diversion, and diversion was above everything the thing
necessary for Lady Jane. And there was this to be said for Lady Germaine,
that the Duchess herself had the opportunity of stopping the Winton affair
had she chosen. She must have seen what was going on. Poor Mr Winton
could not conceal the state of mind in which he was; and as for Lady Jane,
there was a certain tremor in her retired and gentle demeanour, a little
outburst of happiness now and then, a liquid expression about the eyes, a
softening of manner and countenance, which no mother’s eyes could have
overlooked. It was she who ought to have interfered. She could have
controlled her own child no doubt, or she could have made it apparent to Mr
Winton that his assiduities were disagreeable; but she did nothing of the
sort. She had every appearance of liking the man herself. She talked to him
apparently with pleasure, asked him his opinion, declared that he had
excellent taste. After this why should Lady Germaine have been blamed?
All she did was to form her society of the best materials she could collect.
She was fond of nice people, and loved conversation. If men could talk
pleasantly, and add to the entertainment of her household, when the time
came for encountering the tedium of the country, she asked nothing about
their grandfathers, nor even demanded whether they had a rent-roll, or
money in the funds, or how they lived. Lively young barristers, literary
men, artists, people who it was to be feared lived on their wits, not to speak
of those younger sons who are the plague of society, came and went about
her house; which made it a house alarming to mothers, it must be allowed,
but extremely lively, cheerful, and full of “go,” which was what Lady
Germaine liked. And as she openly professed that this was the principle
upon which she went, the risks were at least patent and above-board which
princesses royal were likely to meet with at her house.
It is now time to speak of the lover himself, who has hitherto been but
hinted at. We must say, in the first place, that there was nothing
objectionable about Mr Winton. He was not poor, nor was he roturier. He
was a well-bred English gentleman, of perfectly good though not exalted
family. On the Continent he would have been said to belong to the petite
noblesse. But after all it only wants an accession of fortune to make la
petite into la grande noblesse. He was as far descended as any prince
(which, indeed, may be said for the most of us), and had ancestors reaching
up into the darkness of the ages. At least he had the portraits of these
ancestors hanging up in the hall at Winton House; and unless they had
existed, how could they have had their portraits taken? which is an
unanswerable argument. Winton House itself was but a small place, it is
true; but when his Indian uncle died and left him all that money, it was
immediately placed in Mr Winton’s power to make his house into a great
one had he chosen; and for so rich a man to keep the old place intact was
loyalty, or family pride, or at the worst eccentricity, and did by no means
imply any shabbiness either of mind or means. To make up for this he had a
very handsome house in town, and there was no doubt at all on the question
that he was a rich man, and able to indulge his fancy as he pleased. He
would have been a perfectly good match for Lady Germaine’s own daughter
had she been old enough, or for Earl Binny’s young ladies, or for almost
any girl in the county, excepting always Lady Jane. She was the one who
was out of his sphere. It was perfectly well known that the Duke would not
hear of any son-in-law whose rank, or at least whose family, was not equal
to his own, and it had long been a foregone conclusion with society that it
was very unlikely Lady Jane would ever marry at all. Perhaps had Mr
Winton fully foreseen the position, he would have retired too, before, as
people say, his feelings were too much interested. But it is to be feared that
the idea did not occur to him until, unfortunately, it was too late.
Reginald Winton had been brought up in the most approved way at a
public school, and at Oxford, and shaped into what was considered the best
fashion of his time. It had been intended, as the old estate was insufficient
to support two people, and his mother was then living, that he should go to
the bar. But before he attained this end, the uncle’s fortune, of which he had
not the least expectation, fell down upon him suddenly, as from the skies.
Then, of course, it was not thought necessary that he should continue his
studies. He was not only rich, but very rich, and at the same time had all the
advantages of once having been poor. He had no expensive habits. He did
not bet, nor race, nor gamble; nor did he on the other hand buy pictures or
curiosities, or sumptuous furniture (at least no more than reason). He was
full of intelligence, but he was not literary, nor over-learned, nor too clever.
He was five feet ten, and quite sufficiently good-looking for a man of his
fortune. He would have been favourably received in most families of
gentry, nay, even of nobility, in England; but only not in the house of the
Altamonts. Here was the perversity of fate. But he did not do it on purpose,
nor fly at such high game solely because it was forbidden, as some people
might have done. It is certain that he did not know who Lady Jane was
when his heart was caught unawares. He took Lady Germaine aside and
begged to be introduced to the young lady in white, without a suspicion of
her greatness. It was at a moment when ladies wore a great deal of colour:
when they had wreaths of flowers scrambling over their dresses and their
heads, like a hedgerow in summer. Lady Jane’s dress was white silk, soft
and even dull in tone. She had not a bow or a flower, but some pearls
twisted in her smooth brown hair, which was not frizzy as nowadays, but
shining like satin. She was seated a little apart with the children of the
house, and to a man incapable of perceiving that this simple garment was of
much superior value to many of the gayer fabrics round, she had the air of
being economically as well as gracefully clothed. “How much better taste is
that simple dress than all those furbelows!” he said. His opinion was, that
she would turn out to be the rector’s daughter. Lady Germaine gazed at him
for a moment with the contempt which a woman naturally entertains for a
man’s mistake in this kind. “I like your simplicity,” she said with fine satire
which he did not understand;—and presented him on the spot to Lady Jane
Altamont.
How Winton opened his eyes! But there was no reason why he should
withdraw, and acknowledge the Duke’s daughter to be out of his sphere. On
the contrary, he did his best to make himself agreeable. And from that time
to this, when everybody could see things were coming to a crisis, he had
never ceased in the effort. It was the first time—except by Lord Rushbrook,
who had done it politically—that this noble maiden had been personally
wooed. The sense that she was as other women, had come into her heart
with a soft transport of sweetness, emancipating her all at once from those
golden bonds of high sacrifice and duty in which she had believed herself to
be bound. She had not rebelled against them; but when it appeared now that
life might be happiness as well as duty, and that all its delights and hopes
were possible to her as to others, the melting of all those icicles that had
been formed around her, flooded her gentle soul with tenderness. She was
not easily wooed; for nothing could be less like the freedom of manners
which makes it natural nowadays for a girl to advance a little on her side,
and help on her lover, than the almost timid though always sweet stateliness
with which Lady Jane received his devotion. It was a wonder to her, as it
cannot be to young ladies who flirt from their cradles. Love! She regarded it
with awe, mingled with a touched and surprised gratitude. She was older
than a girl usually is when that revelation is first made to her, a fact which
deepened every sentiment. Winton did not, could not, divine what was
passing in that delicate spirit. But he felt the novelty, the exquisite, modest
grace of his reception. He had not been without experience in his own
person, and had known what it was to be “encouraged.” But here he was not
encouraged. It was romance put into action for the first time, a love-making
that was as new, and fresh, and miraculous, and incomprehensible, as if no
one had ever made love before. And thus the flood of their own emotions
carried the pair on; and if Winton had never paused to think how the Duke
would receive his addresses, it may with still greater certainty be assumed
that Lady Jane had never considered that momentous question. They went
on, unawakened to anything outside their own elysium, which, like most
other elysiums of the kind, was a fool’s paradise.
It was Lady Germaine at last, as she had been the means of setting the
whole affair in motion, who brought it to a climax. He had not confided in
her in so many words—for, indeed, he was too much elevated and carried
away by this growing passion to bring it to the common eye; but he had so
far betrayed himself on a certain occasion when reference had been made to
Lady Jane, that his hostess and friend burst through all pretences and herself
dashed into the subject. “Reginald Winton,” she said almost solemnly, “do
you know what is before you? How are you going to ask the Duke of
Billingsgate, that high and mighty personage, to give you his daughter? I
wonder you are not ready to sink into the earth with terror.”
“The Duke of Billingsgate?” cried the young man, with a gasp of
dismay.
“To be sure; but I suppose you never thought of that,” she said.
He grew paler and paler as he looked at her. “Do you know,” he said, “it
never occurred to me till this moment. But what do I care for the Duke of
Billingsgate? I think of nothing, since you will have it, but her, Lady
Germaine.”
“Innocent! do you think I have not known that for the last two months?
When you want to hide anything, you should not put flags up at all your
windows.”
“Have I put flags up?” He looked at her with colours flying and an
illumination in his eyes. He was pleased to think that he had exposed
himself and proclaimed his lady’s charms in this way, like a knight-errant.
“I hope I have not done anything to annoy her,” he added, in a panic. “Lady
Germaine, you will keep my secret till I know my fate.”
“Oh, as for keeping your secret—but from whom are you to know your
fate, if I may ask?” Lady Germaine said.
Reginald blushed like a girl all over his face—or rather he reddened like
a man, duskily, half angrily, while his eyes grew more like illuminations
than ever. He drew a long breath, making a distinct pause, as a devout
Catholic would do to cross himself, before he replied, “From whom? from
her; who else?” with a glow of excitement and hope.
Lady Germaine shook her head. “Oh, you innocent!” she cried; “oh, you
baby! If there is any other word that expresses utter simplicity and
foolishness, let me call you that. Her! that is all very well, that is easy
enough. But what are you to say to her father?—oh, you simpleton!—her
father,—that is the question.”
“I presume, Lady Germaine,” said the lover, assuming an air of superior
knowledge and lofty sentiment—“I presume that if I am so fortunate as to
persuade her to listen to me—which, heaven knows, I am doubtful enough
of!—that in that case her father——”
“Would be easy to manage, you think?” she said, with scornful toleration
of his folly.
The young man looked at her with that ineffable air of imbecility and
vanity which no man can escape at such a crisis, and made her a little bow
of acquiescence. Her tone, her air, made him aware that she had no doubt of
his success in the first instance, and this gave him a sudden intoxication. A
father! What was a father? If she once gave him authority to speak to her
father, would not all be said?
“Oh, you goose!” said Lady Germaine again; “oh, you ignoramus! You
are so silly that I am obliged to call you names. Do you know who the Duke
of Billingsgate is? Simply the proudest man in England. He thinks there is
nobody under the blood royal that is good enough for his child.”
“And he is quite right! I am of the same opinion,” said Winton; then he
paused and gave her a look in which, notwithstanding his gravity and
enthusiasm, there was something comic. “But then,” he added, “the blood
royal, that is not always the symbol of perfection, and then——”
“And then——? You think, of course, that you have something to offer
which a royal duke might not possess?”
“Perhaps,” said Winton, looking at her again with a sort of friendly
defiance; and then his eyes softened with that in which he felt himself
superior to any royal duke or potentate; the something which was worthy of
Lady Jane, let all the noble fathers in the world do their worst against him.
He was not alarmed by all that Lady Germaine had said. Most likely he did
not realise it. His mind went away even while she was speaking. She had
heart enough to approve of this, and to perceive that Winton felt as a true
lover ought to feel, but she was half provoked all the same, and anxious
how it was all to turn out.
“Do be a little practical,” she said; “try for a moment to leave her out of
the question. What are you going to say to the Duke? That is what I want to
know.”
“How can I tell you?” said Winton; “how can I speak at all on such a
subject? If I am to be so happy as to have anything at all to say to the Duke:
—why, then—the occasion will inspire me,” he added, after a pause. “I
cannot even think now what in such circumstances I should say.”
Lady Germaine gave up with a sigh all attempt to guide him. “Then I
must just wash my hands of you,” she said, with a sort of despair; “indeed,
in any case I don’t know what I could have done for you. I shall be blamed,
of course. The Duke will turn upon me, I know; but, thank heaven, I have
nothing to fear from the Duke, and I don’t see what I can be said to have to
do with the business. You met only in the ordinary way at my house. I never
planned meetings for you, nor schemed to bring you together. Indeed I
never thought of such a thing at all. Lady Jane, who has refused the first
matches in the kingdom, what could have led me to suppose that she would
turn her eyes upon you?”
Now, though Winton said truly that he thought the Duke quite right in
expecting the very best and highest of all things for his child, yet it was not
in the nature of man not to be somewhat piqued when he heard himself
spoken of in this tone of slight, and almost contempt. True, he would have
desired for her sake to have more and finer gifts to lay at her feet, but still
such as he was, was not, after all, so contemptible as Lady Germaine
seemed to imply. He could not help a little movement of self-vindication.
“I am not aware on what ground you can be blamed,” he said, coldly,
“since you are good enough to admit me to your society at all. Perhaps that
was a mistake; and yet I don’t know that I have done anything to shut the
doors of my friends against me.”
“This is admirable,” said Lady Germaine; “you first, and the Duke
afterwards. Never mind; you will probably come to yourself in half an hour
or so, and beg my pardon. I give it you beforehand. But at the same time, let
me advise you for your own good, to think a little what you are going to say
to the Duke when you ask him for his daughter. It will not be so easy a
matter as you seem to think. Oh yes, of course you are sorry for being rude
to me—I was aware of that. Yes, yes, I forgive you. But pay attention to
what I say.”
Winton thought over this conversation several times in the course of the
next twenty-four hours, but his mind was very much occupied with another
and much more important matter. He thought so much of Lady Jane that he
had little time to spare for any consideration of her father. True, he himself
was only a commoner of an undistinguished family; but he had the
sustaining consciousness of being very well off—and dukes’ daughters had
been known to marry commoners before now without any special
commotion on the subject. He was a great deal more occupied with the first
steps in the matter than with any subsequent ones. He had to find out where
Lady Jane was going, and to contrive to get invitations to the same places,
for it was the height of the season, and they were all in London. The
Duchess did not throw herself into the vortex. She went only to the best
houses; she gave only stately entertainments, which the Duke made a point
of; therefore it was more difficult to go where Lady Jane was going than is
usually the case with the ordinary Lady Janes of society. It took her lover
most of his time to arrange these opportunities of seeing her, and at each
successive one he made up his mind to determine his fate. But it is
astonishing how many accidents intervene when such a decision has been
come to. Sometimes it was an impertinent spectator who would obtrude
himself or herself upon them. Sometimes it was the impossibility of finding
a nook where any such serious conversation could be carried on. Sometimes
the frivolity of the surrounding circumstances kept him silent; for who
would, if he could help it, associate that wonderful moment of his existence
with nothing better than the chatter of the ball-room? And once when every
circumstance favoured him, his heart failed and he did not dare to put his
fortune to the touch. How could he think of the father while in all the
agitation of uncertainty as to how his suit would be looked upon by the
daughter? During this moment of hesitation the Duchess herself once asked
him to dinner, and when he found himself set down in the centre of the
table, far from the magnates who glittered at either end, and far from Lady
Jane who was the star of the whole entertainment, Winton felt his humility
and insignificance as he had never felt them before, and was conscious of
such a chill of doubt and alarm as made his heart sink within him. But the
Duchess was markedly kind, and a glance from Lady Jane’s soft eyes,
suffused with a sort of liquid light, sent him up again into a heaven of hope.
Next morning they met by chance in the Park, very early, before the world
of fashion was out of doors. She was taking a walk attended by her maid,
and explained, with a great deal of unnecessary embarrassment, that she
missed her country exercise and had longed for a little fresh air. The
consequence was, that the maid was sent away to do some small
commissions, and, with a good deal of alarm but some guilty happiness,
Lady Jane found herself alone with her lover. It did not require a very long
time or many words to make matters clear between them. Did she not know
already all that he had wanted so long to say? One word made them both
aware of what they had been communicating to each other for months past.
But though this explanation was so soon arrived at, the details took a long
time to disentangle—and there was a terrible amount of repetition and
comparison of feelings and circumstances. It was nearly the hour for
luncheon when he accompanied her home, with a heart so full of exultation
and delight and pride, that it had still no room for any thought of the Duke
or fear of what he might say. Even after he had parted from his love, Winton
could not withdraw his mind from its much more agreeable occupation to
think of the Duke. Jane had begged that she might tell her mother first, and
that he should wait to hear from them before taking any further step. But he
was to meet them that evening at one of the parties to which he had
schemed to be invited on her account. And with every vein thrilling with his
morning’s happy work, and the anticipation of seeing her who was now his,
in the evening, how could any young lover be expected to turn from his
happiness to the thought of anything less blessed? The day passed like a
dream; everything in it tended towards the moment in which he should see
her again. It would be like a new world to see her again. When they met in
the morning she was almost terrible to him, a queen who could send him
into everlasting banishment. When he met her now, he would see in her his
wife, wonderful thought, his own! The place of meeting was in one of the
crowds of London society, where all the world is; but Winton saw nothing
except those soft eyes which were looking for him. How their hands met, in
what seemed only the ordinary greeting to other people, clasping each other
as if they never could part again! They did not say much, and she did not
even venture, except by momentary glance now and then, to meet his eye.
There was scarcely even opportunity for a whisper on his part to ask what
he was to do; for as he stooped for this purpose to Lady Jane’s ear, the
Duchess, who was looking very serious, but who had not refused to shake
hands with him, laid a finger upon his arm.
“Mr Winton,” she said, “I should like to see you to-morrow about
twelve. I have something to say to you.” She had looked very grave, but at
the end brightened into a smile, yet shook her head. “I don’t know what to
say to you,” she added hurriedly; “there will be dreadful difficulties in the
way.”
To-morrow at twelve! He seemed to tread upon difficulties and crush
them under his feet as he went home that evening; but with the morning a
little thrill of apprehension came.
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