“Oh, I don’t think there’s any doubt of that.”
“Well, at any rate, first thing to-morrow morning, if you please, back you go and ask him. And mind you don’t let him slip through your fingers this time. He’s as bad as an eel for that.”
“First thing! I can’t, Anania. The Earl has sent word that he means to fly the new hawks at five o’clock to-morrow morning.”
“Bother the—hawks! Couldn’t you go again to-night?”
“No, they’ll be gone to bed by now. Why, wife, what on earth does it matter to thee?”
Anania’s reply to this query was so sharp a snarl that Osbert let her alone thereafter.
The next morning, when released from his duties, he went again to Kepeharme Lane—to hear that Stephen had set out on his return journey half-an-hour before. “Well, now, it’s plain to me what that means!” announced Anania solemnly, when this distressing fact was communicated to her. “He’s married somebody he’s ashamed of—some low creature, quite beneath him, whom he doesn’t care to own. That must be the explanation. She’s no better than she should be; take my word for it!”
“That’s quite possible,” said Osbert drily. “There’s another or two of us in that predicament.”
Anania flounced over on her couch, thereby making herself groan.
“You are, and no mistake!” she growled.