"Do," said Lord Borodaile.

"Mr. Linden, my lord," said the servant, throwing open the door; and
Clarence entered.

"I am very fortunate," said he, with that smile which so few ever
resisted, "to find you at home, Lord Borodaile; but as the day was wet,
I thought I should have some chance of that pleasure; I therefore
wrapped myself up in my roquelaure, and here I am."

Now, nothing could be more diplomatic than the compliment of choosing
a wet day for a visit, and exposing one's self to "the pitiless
shower," for the greater probability of finding the person visited at
home. Not so thought Lord Borodaile; he drew himself up, bowed very
solemnly, and said, with cold gravity,--

"You are very obliging, Mr. Linden."

Clarence coloured, and bit his lip as he seated himself. Mr. Percy
Bobus, with true insular breeding, took up the newspaper.

"I think I saw you at Lady C.'s last night," said Clarence; "did you
stay there long?"

"No, indeed," answered Borodaile; "I hate her parties."

"One does meet such odd people there," observed Mr. Percy Bobus;
"creatures one never sees anywhere else:"

"I hear," said Clarence, who never abused any one, even the givers of