She gazed like some genius invisible to the crowd, and mourning
over its degradation.
He stopped St. Maurice, as his cousin passed by, to inquire her name,
and learnt that she was Lady Aphrodite Grafton, the wife of Sir Lucius
Grafton.
'What, Lucy Grafton!' exclaimed the Duke. 'I remember; I was his fag
at Eton. He was a handsome dog; but I doubt whether he deserves such a
wife. Introduce me.'
Lady Aphrodite received our hero with a gentle bow, and did not seem
quite as impressed with his importance as most of those to whom he had
been presented in the course of the evening. The Duke had considerable
tact with women, and soon perceived that the common topics of a hack
flirtation would not do in the present case. He was therefore mild and
modest, rather piquant, somewhat rational, and apparently perfectly
unaffected. Her Ladyship's reserve wore away. She refused to dance,
but conversed with more animation. The Duke did not leave her side. The
women began to stare, the men to bet: Lady Aphrodite against the
field. In vain his Grace laid a thousand plans to arrange a tea-room
tete-a-tete.
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