Wilton, then, did not in any degree presume.  He discoursed upon nothing; he did not even attempt to lead.  The Duke led the conversation, and he followed:  but it was like that famous entry of the Roman emperor, where an eagle was seen hovering round and round his head:  the royal bird followed, indeed, the monarch; but in his flight took ten times a wider scope:  the people hailed with loud gratulations the approach of Caesar, but in the attendant bird they recognised Jove.  The Duke, however, who had taste, as we have said, and feeling, and who, in regard to conversational powers, was not a vain roan, was delighted with his guest, and laid himself out to lead Wilton on towards subjects on which he thought he would shine:  but there was one very extraordinary thing in the history of that afternoon.  There was not a servant in the hall—­no, neither the laced and ribanded lackey lately hired in London, the old blue bottles from the country mansion, the stately butler and his understrapper of the cellaret, nor the Duke’s own French gentleman, who stood very close to his master’s elbow during the whole of dinner time—­there was not one that did not clearly and perfectly perceive that their young lady was in love with her hand some deliverer, and did not comment upon it in their several spheres, when they quitted the room.  Every one felt positive that the matter was all arranged, and the wedding was soon to take place; and, to say the truth, so much had Wilton in general won upon their esteem by one means or another, that the only objection urged against him, in the various councils which were held upon the subject, was, that his name was Brown, that he had not a vis-a-vis, and that he kept only two horses.

The two or three last sentences, it must be owned, are lamentable digressions; for we have not yet stated what the extraordinary thing was.  It was not in the least degree extraordinary that the servants should all find out the secret of Laura’s heart; for her eyes told it every time that she looked at Wilton; but it is very extraordinary, indeed, that her father should never find it out, when every one else that was present did.  Is it that there is a magic haze which surrounds love, that can never be penetrated by the eyes of parents or guardians, till some particular allotted moment is arrived?  I cannot tell; so, however, has it always proved, and so in all probability it ever will.

Such was the case with the Duke at the present moment.  Although there was every opportunity for his daughter and Wilton falling in love with each other; although there was every reasonable cause thereunto them moving—­youth, and beauty, and warm hearts, and gratitude, and interesting situations:  although there was every probability that time, place, and circumstance could afford; although there was every indication, sign, symptom, and appearance, that it was absolutely the case at that very moment, yet the Duke saw nothing of it, did not believe it existed, did not imagine that it was likely ever to exist, and was quite prepared to be astonished, surprised, and mortified, at whatever period the fact, by the will of fate, should be forced upon his understanding.