So saying, the earl turned to a small, dark, stiff-looking man, of about twenty-eight years of age, at his left, and introduced the Duke of ------ to Lady Florence Lascelles. The duke was unmarried; it was an introduction between the greatest match and the wealthiest heiress in the peerage. "Lady Florence," said Lord Saxingham, "is as fond of horses as yourself, duke, though not quite so good a judge." "I confess I /do/ like horses," said the duke, with an ingenuous air. Lord Saxingham moved away. Lady Florence stood mute--one glance of bright contempt shot from her large eyes; her lip slightly curled, and she then half turned aside, and seemed to forget that her new acquaintance was in existence. His grace, like most great personages, was not apt to take offence; nor could he, indeed, ever suppose that any slight towards the Duke of ------ could be intended; still he thought it would be proper in Lady Florence to begin the conversation; for he himself, though not shy, was habitually silent, and accustomed to be saved the fatigue of defraying the small charges of society. After a pause, seeing, however, that Lady Florence remained speechless, he began: "You ride sometimes in the Park, Lady Florence?" "Very seldom." "It is, indeed, too warm for riding at present." "I did not say so." "Hem--I thought you did." Another pause. "Did you speak, Lady Florence?" "No." "Oh, I beg pardon--Lord Saxingham is looking very well." "I am glad you think so." "Your picture in the exhibition scarcely does you justice, Lady Florence; yet Lawrence is usually happy." "You are very flattering," said Lady Florence, with a lively and perceptible impatience in her tone and manner. The young beauty was thoroughly spoilt--and now all the scorn of a scornful nature was drawn forth, by observing the envious eyes of the crowd were bent upon one whom the Duke of ------ was actually talking to. Brilliant as were her own powers of conversation, she would not deign to exert them--she was an aristocrat of intellect rather than birth, and she took it into her head that the duke was an idiot. She was very much mistaken. If she had but broken up the ice, she would have found that the water below was not shallow. The duke, in fact, like many other Englishmen, though he did not like the trouble of showing forth, and had an ungainly manner, was a man who had read a good deal, possessed a sound head and an honourable mind, though he did not know what it was to love anybody, to care much for anything, and was at once perfectly sated and yet perfectly contented; for apathy is the combination of satiety and content.