"You have done wisely, my lord," said Borodaile, secum multa
revolvens; "and I assure you I wanted no hint to remind me of your
invitation."

Here the Duke of Haverfield joined them. The duke never bowed to any
one of the male sex; he therefore nodded to Borodaile, who, with a
very supercilious formality, took off his hat in returning the
salutation. The viscount had at least this merit in his pride,--that
if it was reserved to the humble, it was contemptuous to the high: his
inferiors he wished to remain where they were; his equals he longed to
lower.

"So I dine with you, Lord St. George, to-day," said the duke; "whom
shall I meet?"

"Lord Borodaile, for one," answered St. George; "my brother, Aspeden,
Findlater, Orbino, and Linden."

"Linden!" cried the duke; "I'm very glad to hear it, c'est un homme
fait expres pour moi. He is very clever, and not above playing the
fool; has humour without setting up for a wit, and is a good fellow
without being a bad man. I like him excessively."

"Lord St. George;" said Borodaile, who seemed that day to be the very
martyr of the unconscious Clarence, "I wish you good morning. I have
only just remembered an engagement which I must keep before I go to
White's."

And with a bow to the duke, and a remonstrance from Lord St. George,