“Which are never to be realized,” interrupted Borodaile, laughing scornfully. “Ah, indeed!” said Lord St. George, seriously. “Well, at all events he is a very agreeable, unaffected young man: and, by the by, Borodaile, you will meet him chez moi to-day; you know you dine with me?” “Meet Mr. Linden! I shall be proud to have that honour,” said Borodaile, with sparkling eyes; “will Lady Westborough be also of the party?” “No, poor Lady St. George is very ill, and I have taken the opportunity to ask only men.” “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, Borodaile effected his escape. His complexion was, insensibly to himself, more raised than usual, his step more stately; his mind, for the first time for years, was fully excited and engrossed. Ah, what a delightful thing it is for an idle man, who has been dying of ennui, to find an enemy! CHAPTER XLIV. You must challenge him There’s no avoiding; one or both must drop. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. “Ha! ha! ha! bravo, Linden!” cried Lord St. George, from the head of his splendid board, in approbation of some witticism of Clarence’s; and ha! ha! ha! or he! he! he! according to the cachinnatory intonations of the guests rang around. “Your lordship seems unwell,” said Lord Aspeden to Borodaile; “allow me to take wine with you.” 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.”