"Which girl?" he said, with a little touch of hauteur in his face.
"The painter's niece," said Lord Charles. "What a beautiful girl she is! Reminds me of a what-do-you-call-it."
"What is that?"
"A—a gazelle. It's rather a pity that she should be intended for that saucy lawyer fellow."
"What?" asked Lord Leycester, quietly.
"Haven't you heard?" said Lord Charles, grimly. "The fellows were talking about it in the billiard-room."
"About what?" demanded Lord Leycester, still quietly, though his eyes glittered. Stella the common talk of the billiard-room. It was desecration.
"Oh, it was Longford, he knows the man!"
"What man?"