“The Duke of Somerset.”
“Come! go not back to the time afore the Flood,” exclaimed he. “Let bygones be bygones.”
“I have no objection,” said John, “if bygones will be bygones.”
“Jack Avery, hold thy peace, or we shall quarrel! I will not have cold water flung over my fair bonfire of rejoicing!”
“It should take much to put it out, methinks,” said Dr Thorpe.
“What say you, my master?” inquired Mr Underhill, turning with one of his quick motions to Don Juan.
“Marry,” answered Don Juan, smiling (he spoke English fairly), “I say, we shall all know more about it a year hence.”
“Gramercy! you are one of the wary ones,” grumbled Mr Underhill. “Come, let me see if I cannot find one of my way of thinking. Mrs Avery, are you only Jack in a gown, or have you a mind of your own?”
“Verily, Mr Underhill, I know not how things shall go,” said she, “and therefore I were wisest to hold my peace.”
“Alas!” answered he. “Dr Thorpe, you are Prudence herself, and a Lutheran to boot, wherefore—”