He seemed one who had lived hard; but who had much yet left in the lamp wherewith to feed the wick.

At the first glance he appeared slight, as he lolled listlessly in his chair--almost fragile.

But, at a nearer examination, you perceived that, in spite of the small extremities and delicate bones, his frame was constitutionally strong.

Without being broad in the shoulders, he was exceedingly deep in the chest--deeper than men who seemed giants by his side; and his gestures had the ease of one accustomed to an active life.
He had, indeed, been celebrated in his youth for his skill in athletic exercises, but a wound, received in a duel many years ago, had rendered him lame for life--a misfortune which interfered with his former habits, and was said to have soured his temper.

This personage, whose position and character will be described hereafter, was Lord Lilburne, the brother of Mrs.Beaufort.
"So, Camilla," said Lord Lilburne to his niece, as carelessly, not fondly, he stroked down her glossy ringlets, "you don't like Berkeley Square as you did Gloucester Place." "Oh, no! not half so much! You see I never walk out in the fields,--[Now the Regent's Park.]--nor make daisy-chains at Primrose Hill.