"A farmer's niece," cried my lady; "you cannot possibly mean it. There must be some mistake—the boy has been playing a practical joke on you."
"It is no joke; I only wish it were. Lance gave me the details. He was married yesterday morning by the Reverend Mr. Barnes, at the Church of St. Barnabas, at Oheton, a village somewhere near Rashleigh."
"Married—really and actually married," cried my lady. "I will not believe it."
"Unhappily, it is true. He expected, I think, to make his home here; he had no idea of leaving Dunmore House; but I told him that I could not receive him or her."
"Her! You do not mean to say that he had the audacity to bring her here, Ross?"
"Yes, they came together last night; but I would not receive her. I told them plainly that you must settle the matter, as I could not."
"I should think not," said my lady, with emphasis.
"I must own, though," continued the earl, "that I was rather sorry for Lance; he had trusted entirely to my good offices and seemed to think it very cruel of me to refuse to plead for him."
"And the girl," said my lady, "what of her?"
"You will think I am weak and foolish, without doubt," he said, "but the girl distressed me even more than Lance. She is beautiful enough to arouse the admiration of the world; and she spoke so well for him."