"Avoid fighting!" cried his grace, in undisguised astonishment. "No,
indeed: but that is the least part of the matter; you must kill as
well as fight him."

"Kill him!" cried Clarence, wildly, "whom?" and then sinking into a
chair, he covered his face with his hands for a few moments, and
seemed to struggle with his emotions.

"Well," thought the duke, "I never was more mistaken in my life. I
could have bet my black horse against Trevanion's Julia, which is
certainly the most worthless thing I know, that Linden had been a
brave fellow: but these English heroes almost go into fits at a duel;
one manages such things, as Sterne says, better in France."

Clarence now rose, calm and collected. He sat down; wrote a brief
note to Borodaile, demanding the fullest apology, or the earliest
meeting; put it into the duke's hands, and said with a faint smile,
"My dear duke, dare I ask you to be a second to a man who has been so
grievously affronted and whose genealogy has been so disputed?"

"My dear Linden," said the duke, warmly, "I have always been grateful
to my station in life for this advantage,--the freedom with which it
has enabled me to select my own acquaintance and to follow my own
pursuits. I am now more grateful to it than ever, because it has
given me a better opportunity than I should otherwise have had of
serving one whom I have always esteemed. In entering into your
quarrel I shall at least show the world that there are some men not
inferior in pretensions to Lord Borodaile who despise arrogance and
resent overbearance even to others. Your cause I consider the common
cause of society; but I shall take it up, if you will allow me, with