In a most unexpected manner,
through four or five consecutive deaths in Mr. Harcourt's family, he
became, first, Lord Harcourt, and then the Duke of Towers. And since
then, Mr. Ibbetson, I have not had an hour's peace or happiness.
"In the first place a son was born to me--a cripple, poor dear! and
deformed from his birth; and as he grew older it soon became evident
that he was also born without a mind.
"Then my unfortunate husband changed completely; he drank and gambled
and worse, till we came to live together as strangers, and only spoke to
each other in public and before the world...."
"Ah," I said, "you were still a great lady--an English duchess!"
I could not endure the thought of that happy twelvemonth with that
bestial duke! I, sober, chaste, and clean--of all but blood, alas!--and
a condemned convict!
Oh, Mr. Ibbetson, you must make no mistake about _me_! I was never
intended by nature for a duchess--especially an English one. Not but
what, if dukes and duchesses are necessary, the English are the
best--and, of course, by dukes and duchesses I mean all that
upper-ten-thousand in England which calls itself 'society'--as if there
were no other worth speaking of.
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