But
how far is this occasioned by the modern position of our
church? That is the question."
"You must speak to Mr St Lys about that," said Lady Maud. "Do
you know him?" she added in a lowered tone.
"No; is he here?"
"Next to mamma."
And looking in that direction, on the left hand of Lady
Mowbray, Egremont beheld a gentleman in the last year of his
youth, if youth according to the scale of Hippocrates cease at
thirty-five. He was distinguished by that beauty of the noble
English blood, of which in these days few types remain; the
Norman tempered by the Saxon; the fire of conquest softened by
integrity; and a serene, though inflexible habit of mind. The
chains of convention, an external life grown out of all
proportion with that of the heart and mind, have destroyed
this dignified beauty. There is no longer in fact an
aristocracy in England, for the superiority of the animal man
is an essential quality of aristocracy. But that it once
existed, any collection of portraits from the sixteenth
century will show.
Aubrey St Lys was a younger son of the most ancient Norman
family in England. The Conqueror had given them the moderate
estate on which they now lived, and which, in spite of so many
civil conflicts and religious changes, they had handed down to
each other, from generation to generation, for eight
centuries.
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