Then he cleared
his throat, and spoke again, but not much more to the purpose. Then he
looked to his partner, whose eyes were on the ground, and rose as he
endeavoured to catch them. For a moment he was silent again; then he
bowed slightly to Miss Dacre and solemnly to the Duke, and then he
carried off his cousin.
'Poor Dacre!' said the Duke; 'he always had the worst manner in the
world. Not in the least changed.'
His Grace wandered into the tea-room. A knot of dandies were in deep
converse. He heard his own name and that of the Duke of Burlington; then
came 'Doncaster beauty.' 'Don't you know?' 'Oh! yes.' 'All quite mad,'
&c, &c, &c. As he passed he was invited in different ways to join the
coterie of his admirers, but he declined the honour, and passed them
with that icy hauteur which he could assume, and which, judiciously
used, contributed not a little to his popularity.
He could not conquer his depression; and, although it was scarcely
past midnight, he determined to disappear. Fortunately his carriage was
waiting. He was at a loss what to do with himself. He dreaded even to be
alone.
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