"The person," said he, "who is announced here to-night as an English duke
seemed to me, of all men I could select, least like one."
"Pray, what is your ideal of an English duke, Mr. Lethal?" asked Adonais,
with the air of a connoisseur, sure of himself, but hating to offend.
"A plain, solid person, well dressed, but simple; mutton-chop whiskers;
and the manners of a--a----"
"Bear!" said a soft female voice.
"Precisely,--the manners of a bear; a kind of gentlemanly bear, perhaps,--
but still, ursine and heavy; while this person, who seems to have walked
out of ----- or a novel, affects me, by his ways and appearance, like a--
a--h'm"----
"Gambler!" said the same female voice, in a conclusive tone.
There was a general soft laugh. Everybody was pleased. All admired, hated,
and envied the Duke. It was settled beyond a doubt that he was an
impostor,--and that the Denslows were either grossly taken in, or were
"selling" their friends. In either case, it was shocking and delightful.
"The fun of the thing," continued Lethal, raising his voice a little, "is,
that the painter who got up the old picture must have been as much an
admirer of the Hon. Mrs. Denslow as--his--Highness; for, in touching in
the queen, he has unconsciously made it a portrait."
The blow was final.
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