"I fear I do not know my own mind."
"Well," said Cleveland, "here comes your tempter. Lord Doltimore, let me introduce Mr. Maltravers."
Lord Doltimore bowed.
"Been admiring your horses, Mr. Maltravers. I never saw anything so perfect as the black one; may I ask where you bought him?"
"It was a present to me," answered Maltravers.
"A present?"
"Yes, from one who would not have sold that horse for a king's ransom,—an old Arab chief, with whom I formed a kind of friendship in the desert. A wound disabled him from riding, and he bestowed the horse on me, with as much solemn tenderness for the gift as if he had given me his daughter in marriage."
"I think of travelling in the East," said Lord Doltimore, with much gravity: "I suppose nothing will induce you to sell the black horse?"
"Lord Doltimore!" said Maltravers, in a tone of lofty surprise.
"I do not care for the price," continued the young nobleman, a little disconcerted.