"Good stock on both sides; she carries it in her face." "That's all I ask," said Lady Lucy, quietly.
"But that you _do_ ask!" Her companion looked at her with an eye half affectionate, half ironic.

"Most exclusive of women! I sometimes wish I might unveil your real opinions to the Radical fellows who come here." Lady Lucy colored faintly.
"That has nothing to do with politics." "Hasn't it?
I can't imagine anything that has more to do with them." "I was thinking of character--honorable tradition--not blood." Ferrier shook his head.
"Won't do.

Barton wouldn't pass you--'A man's a man for a' that'-- and a woman too." "Then I am a Tory!" said Lady Lucy, with a smile that shot pleasantly through her gray eyes.
"At last you confess it!" cried Ferrier, as he carried off his papers.
But his gayety soon departed.

He stood awhile at the window in his room, looking out upon the sodden park--a rather gray and sombre figure.

Over his ugly impressiveness a veil of weariness had dropped.