"It must be all a hoax," thought she; and she very quietly took to her soup.
The dinner passed off very pleasantly; Pickersgill was agreeable, Corbett funny, and Miss Ossulton so far recovered herself as to drink wine with his lordship, and to ask Corbett what branch of their family he belonged to.
"I presume it's the Irish branch," said Mrs Lascelles, prompting him.
"Exactly, madam," replied Corbett.
"Have you ever been to Torquay, ladies?" inquired Pickersgill.
"No, my lord," answered Mrs Lascelles.
"We shall anchor there in the course of an hour, and probably remain there till to-morrow. Steward, bring coffee. Tell the cook these cutlets were remarkably well dressed."
The ladies retired to the cabin. Miss Ossulton was now convinced that it was all a hoax; but said she, "I shall tell Lord B. my opinion of their practical jokes when he returns. What is his lordship's name who is on board?"
"He won't tell us," replied Mrs Lascelles; "but I think I know; it is
Lord Blarney."
"Lord Blaney you mean, I presume," said Miss Ossulton; "however, the thing is carried too far. Cecilia, we will go on shore at Torquay, and wait till the yacht returns with Lord B. I don't like these jokes; they may do very well for widows, and people of no rank."