“Indeed!” said Mr. St. George, rather flattered; “he does me much honour; but he is a distant connection of mine, and I suppose I must attribute his recollection of me to that cause. He is a near relation of yours, too, I think: is he not?” “I am related to him,” answered Clarence, colouring. Lord Borodaile leaned forward, and his lip curled. Though, in some respects, a very unamiable man, he had, as we have said, his good points. He hated a lie as much as Achilles did; and he believed in his heart of hearts that Clarence had just uttered one. “Why,” observed Lord Aspeden, “why, Lord Borodaile, the Talbots of Scarsdale are branches of your genealogical tree; therefore your lordship must be related to Linden; ‘you are two cherries on one stalk’!” “We are by no means related,” said Lord Borodaile, with a distinct and clear voice, intended expressly for Clarence; “that is an honour which I must beg leave most positively to disclaim.” There was a dead silence; the eyes of all who heard a remark so intentionally rude were turned immediately towards Clarence. His cheek burned like fire; he hesitated a moment, and then said, in the same key, though with a little trembling in his intonation,-- “Lord Borodaile cannot be more anxious to disclaim it than I am.” “And yet,” returned the viscount, stung to the soul, “they who advance false pretensions ought at least to support them!” “I do not understand you, my lord,” said Clarence. “Possibly not,” answered Borodaile, carelessly: “there is a maxim which says that people not accustomed to speak truth cannot comprehend it in others.” Unlike the generality of modern heroes, who are always in a passion,-- off-hand, dashing fellows, in whom irascibility is a virtue,--Clarence was peculiarly sweet-tempered by nature, and had, by habit, acquired a command over all his passions to a degree very uncommon in so young a man. He made no reply to the inexcusable affront he had received. His lip quivered a little, and the flush of his countenance was succeeded by an extreme paleness; this was all: he did not even leave the room immediately, but waited till the silence was broken by some well-bred member of the party; and then, pleading an early engagement as an excuse for his retiring so soon, he rose and departed.