“She has entire faith in Mr. Temple Barholm—as you have,” put forward his Grace.
“Mine's not faith exactly. I know him,” Little Ann answered, her tone as limpid as her eyes.
“There's more than her has faith in him,” broke forth Hutchinson. “Danged if I don't like th' way them village chaps are taking it. They're ready to fight over it. Since they've found out what it's come to, an' about th' lawyers comin' down, they're talkin' about gettin' up a kind o' demonstration.”
“Delightful!” ejaculated his Grace again. He leaned forward. “Quite what I should have expected. There's a good deal of beer drunk, I suppose.”
“Plenty o' beer, but it'll do no harm.” Hutchinson began to chuckle. “They're talkin' o' gettin' out th' fife an' drum band an' marchin' round th' village with a calico banner with `Vote for T. Tembarom' painted on it, to show what they think of him.”
The duke chuckled also.
“I wonder how he's managed it?” he laughed. “They wouldn't do it for any of the rest of us, you know, though I've no doubt we're quite as deserving. I am, I know.”
Hutchinson stopped laughing and turned on Miss Alicia.
“What's that young woman comin' down here for?” he inquired.
“Lady Joan was engaged to Mr. James Temple Barholm,” Miss Alicia answered.