The
Duke sighed for a little novelty. Christmas was at hand. He began to
think that a regular country Christmas must be a sad bore. Lady Afy,
too, was rather _exigeante_. It destroys one's nerves to be amiable
every day to the same human being. She was the best creature in the
world; but Cambridgeshire was not a pleasant county. He was most
attached; but there was not another agreeable woman in the house. He
would not hurt her feelings for the world; but his own were suffering
desperately. He had no idea that he ever should get so entangled.
Brighton, they say, is a pleasant place.
To Brighton he went; and although the Graftons were to follow him in
a fortnight, still even these fourteen days were a holiday. It is
extraordinary how hourly, and how violently, change the feelings of an
inexperienced young man.
Sir Lucius, however, was disappointed in his Brighton trip. Ten days
after the departure of the young Duke the county member died. Sir Lucius
had been long maturing his pretensions to the vacant representation. He
was strongly supported; for he was a personal favourite, and his
family had claims; but he was violently opposed; for a _novus homo_ was
ambitious, and the Baronet was poor.
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