"I should prefer the cherry brandy by itself," said Lord Saltash, with a mischievous chuckle. "But I won't stay now, thanks all the same. I suppose he'll be back some time? I've never known Jake go to church before. Is he courting or what?"
Mrs. Lovelace opened her small round eyes to their widest extent. "Why, can it be as your lordship hasn't heard?"
"Heard! Heard what? Tell me quickly!" urged his lordship. "This suspense is too horrible!"
"About Mr. Bolton's marriage, sir," explained Mrs. Lovelace, looking suddenly prim.
"What!" ejaculated her listener. "You don't say Bolton's been caught?"
"The marriage took place last Sunday, my lord," said Mrs. Lovelace, still looking prim but plainly enjoying her rôle of informant.
Lord Saltash slapped his thigh with a yell of laughter. "Poor old Jake! And who is the bride?"
"Mrs. Bolton, my lord, is the step-daughter of Mr. Sheppard of the Anchor Hotel," said Mrs. Lovelace.
"Is she though? What's she like? Pretty?"
Mrs. Lovelace pursed her lips. "She is a lady, my lord,--own daughter to a baronet."