 the landmarks, and opening the floodgates,
and all the rest of it; this is the swift progress of the Dedlock mind.
    »My Lady, I beg your pardon. Permit me, for one moment!« She has given a
faint indication of intending to speak. »Mr. Rouncewell, our views of duty, and
our views of station, and our views of education, and our views of - in short,
all our views - are so diametrically opposed, that to prolong this discussion
must be repellant to your feelings, and repellant to my own. This young woman is
honoured with my Lady's notice and favour. If she wishes to withdraw herself
from that notice and favour, or if she chooses to place herself under the
influence of any one who may in his peculiar opinions - you will allow me to
say, in his peculiar opinions, though I readily admit that he is not accountable
for them to me - who may, in his peculiar opinions, withdraw her from that
notice and favour, she is at any time at liberty to do so. We are obliged to you
for the plainness with which you have spoken. It will have no effect of itself,
one way or other, on the young woman's position here. Beyond this, we can make
no terms; and here we beg - if you will be so good - to leave the subject.«
    The visitor pauses a moment to give my Lady an opportunity, but she says
nothing. He then rises and replies:
    »Sir Leicester and Lady Dedlock, allow me to thank you for your attention,
and only to observe that I shall very seriously recommend my son to conquer his
present inclinations. Good night!«
    »Mr. Rouncewell,« says Sir Leicester, with all the nature of a gentleman
shining in him, »it is late, and the roads are dark. I hope your time is not so
precious but that you will allow my Lady and myself to offer you the hospitality
of Chesney Wold, for to-night at least.«
    »I hope so,« adds my Lady.
    »I am much obliged to you, but I have to travel all night, in order to reach
a distant part of the country, punctually at an appointed time in the morning.«
    Therewith the ironmaster takes his departure; Sir Leicester ringing the
bell, and my Lady rising as he leaves the room.
    When my Lady goes to her boudoir, she sits down thoughtfully by the fire;
and, inattentive to the Ghost's Walk, looks at Rosa, writing
