"Who is the happy—the new happy man, that is Mistress Nell's friend?" he asked, smiling.
"Some clod from the country," returned the Earl; "his name, they say, is Dale."
I felt my heart beating, but I trust that I looked cool enough as I leant across and said,
"Your lordship is misinformed. I have the best of reasons for saying so."
"The reasons may be good, sir," he retorted with a stare, "but they are not evident."
"I am myself just named to a commission in the King's Life Guards, and my name is Dale," said I, restraining myself to a show of composure, for I felt Darrell's hand on my arm.
"By my faith, then, you're the happy man," sneered Carford. "I congratulate you on your——"
"Stay, stay, Carford," interposed Mr Jermyn.
"On your—godmother," said Carford.
"You're misinformed, my lord," I repeated fiercely, although by now a great fear had come upon me. I knew whom they meant by "Nell."