United States or Angola ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Lord Borodaile, though always ceremoniously civil, was immovably distant; and avoided as well as he was able Clarence's insinuating approaches and address. To add to his indisposition to increase his acquaintance with Linden, a friend of his, a captain in the Guards, once asked him who that Mr. Linden was? and, on his lordship's replying that he did not know, Mr.
However disposed a great person may be to drop a lesser one, no one of real birth or breeding ever cuts another. Lady Westborough, therefore, though much colder, was no less civil than usual; and Lord Borodaile bowed lower than ever to Mr. Linden, as he punctiliously called him.
Lord Borodaile bowed his assent. "Pray," said Mr. St. George to Clarence, "have you seen my friend Talbot lately?" "This very morning," replied Linden: "indeed, I generally visit him three or four times a week; he often asks after you." "Indeed!" said Mr. St.
"And will you suffer me to read it?" said he; for even in these cases he was punctiliously honourable. La Meronville hesitated. She did not know him. "If I do not consent," thought she, "he will do it without the consent: better submit with a good grace. Certainly!" she answered, with an air of indifference. Borodaile opened and read the note; it was as follows:
"Memoranda! for what?" said Borodaile, who had now just finished his toilet. "Oh!" rejoined Mr. Percy Bobus, "in case of accident, you know: the man may shoot well, though I never saw him in the gallery." "Pray," said Lord Borodaile, in a great though suppressed passion, "pray, Mr. Bobus, how often have I to tell you that it is not by Mr.
His mind was a little Versailles, in which self sat like Louis XIV., and saw nothing but pictures of its self, sometimes as Jupiter and sometimes as Apollo. What marvel then, that Lord Borodaile was a very unpleasant companion? for every human being he had "something of contempt."
In a word, the pretty Frenchwoman was precisely formed to turn the head of a man like Lord Borodaile, who loved to be courted and who required to be amused. Mademoiselle de la Meronville received Clarence with a great deal of grace, and a little reserve, the first chiefly natural, the last wholly artificial. "No, he cannot come to-night."
She was a woman of independence; cared not a straw for Lord Borodaile at present, though she had had a caprice for him; knew that she might choose her bon ami out of all London, and replied, "That is the first letter I ever wrote to him; but I own that it will not be the last." Lord Borodaile turned pale.
Clarence paused for a few moments, and then, sauntering towards them, caught Flora's eye, coloured, and advanced. Now, if there was a haughty man in Europe, it was Lord Borodaile. He was not proud of his birth, nor fortune, but he was proud of himself; and, next to that pride, he was proud of being a gentleman.
"I detest that fellow!" said Lord Borodaile, involuntarily and aloud, as these unwilling truths forced themselves upon his mind. "Whom do you detest?" asked Mr. Percy Bobus, who was lying on the sofa in Lord Borodaile's drawing-room, and admiring a pair of red-heeled shoes which decorated his feet. "That puppy Linden!" said Lord Borodaile, adjusting his cravat.
Word Of The Day