both taste and refinement, though her ideas had been perverted and her heart corrupted by the false maxims early instilled into her.  Yet, selfish and unfeeling as she was, she sickened at the eternal recurrence of self-indulged caprices; and the bauble that had been hailed with delight the one day as a charmed amulet to dispel her ennui, was the next beheld with disgust or indifference.  She believed, indeed, that she had real sources of vexation in the self-will and obstinacy of her husband, and that, had he been otherwise than he was, she should then have been completely happy.  She would not acknowledge, even to herself, that she had done wrong in marrying a man whose person was disagreeable to her, and whose understanding she despised; while her preference was decidedly in favour of another.  Even her style of life was in some respects distasteful to her; yet she was obliged to conform to it.  The Duke retained exactly the same notions of things as had taken possession of his brain thirty years before; consequently everything in his establishment was conducted with a regularity and uniformity unknown to those whose habits are formed on the more eccentric models of the present day; or rather, who have no models save those of their own capricious tastes and inclinations.  He had an antipathy to balls, concerts, and masquerades; for he did not dance, knew nothing of music, and stil less of badinage. But he liked great dull dinners, for there the conversation was generally adapted to his capacity; and it was a pleasure to him to arrange the party—­to look over the bill of fare—­to see all the family plate displayed—­and to read an account of the grand dinner at the Duke of Altamont’s in the “Morning Post” of the following day.  All this sounds very vulgar for the pastimes of a Duke; but there are vulgar-minded Dukes as there are gifted ploughmen, or any other anomalies.  The former Duchess, a woman of high birth, similar years, and kindred spirit of his own in all matters of form and etiquette, was his standard of female propriety; and she would have deemed it highly derogatory to her dignity to have patronised any other species of entertainment than grand dinners and dull assemblies.

Adelaide had attempted with a high hand at once to overturn the whole system of Altamont House, and had failed.  She had declared her detestation of dinners, and been heard in silence.  She had kept her room thrice when they were given, but without success.  She had insisted upon giving a ball, but the Duke, with the most perfect composure, had peremptorily declared it must be an assembly.  Thus baffled in all her plans of domestic happiness, the Duchess would have sought her pleasures elsewhere.  She would have lived anywhere but in her own house associated with everybody but her own husband and done everything but what she had vowed to do.  But even in this she was thwarted.  The Duke had the same precise formal notions of a lady’s conduct abroad, as well as her appearance at home; and the very places she would have most wished to go to were those she was expressly prohibited from ever appearing at.