Page:Paul Clifford Vol 2.djvu/52

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44
PAUL CLIFFORD.

—an old gentleman in fustian-breeches and worsted stockings, by way of a butler, filling me a can of ale,—and your worthy brother asking me if I would not prefer port,—a lean footman in a livery (such a livery, ye gods!) scarlet, blue, yellow, and green, a rainbow ill made! on the opposite side of the table looking at 'the Lord' with eyes and mouth equally open, and large enough to swallow me,—and your excellent brother himself at the head of the table glowing through the mists of the beef, like the rising sun in a sign-post,—and then, Brandon, turning from this image, behold beside me the fair, delicate, aristocratic, yet simple loveliness of your niece, and—but you look angry—I have offended you."

It was high time for Mauleverer to ask that question; for, during the whole of the Earl's recital, the dark face of his companion had literally burnt with rage: and here we may observe, how genenerally selfishness, which makes the man of the world, prevents its possessor, by a sort of paradox, from being consummately so. For Mauleverer, occupied by the pleasure he felt at his own wit, and never having that magic sympathy with