"The art of politeness he certainly has failed to retain, for you can have no idea what a _brusque_ philosopher he is.

I assure you, he terrified me the last time I saw him.

What your honourable father had done to him I know not, but I met him just coming from Berkeley Square, and all the charms he had lately invited around him had suddenly departed, he was a different man, and that day, in a fit, I suppose, of spleen, he quits London, and the next time I hear of him he is in Geneva: that noble Lord is one of the strangest creatures I ever had the honour to know.
However, perhaps he has visited the Continent to learn politeness, and I think he may chance to learn a lesson of love also.

Not at all unlikely, by the praises he bestows in his letters on a certain Louisa Manvers." In vain Caroline struggled to prevent a start, or her cheek from suddenly paling.

"Louisa Manvers," she repeated, almost unconsciously.
"Yes, do you know her?
by the bye, she must be some distant connection of yours, I fancy; her brother is Lord Delmont, he inherited the title from your maternal grandfather.