"Miss Mordaunt and me!" exclaimed Frank, now unfeignedly surprised: "why—I never spoke to Miss Mordaunt in my life!"
"The monster!" half screamed Lady Blunt.
"The audacious liar!" vociferated the knight.
"Pretty names—very pretty," said Frank coolly; "but I'm rather tough, thank God! and so they won't kill me this time. But I can assure you, uncle, you've got hold of the wrong end of the stick when you say that me and Miss Mordaunt planned any thing against you. As I once observed to my friend the Count of St. Omers,—'My lord,' says I.—'What?' asks the Marquis.—'My Lord Duke,' I repeated, in a firmer tone——"
"Cease this nonsense, Mr. Curtis," interrupted Sir Christopher Blunt sternly.
"Yes—and let us come along, my dear," said Lady Blunt, rising and taking her husband's arm. "Your nev-vy does smell so horrid of rum and cigars——"
"And very good things too," cried Frank; "ain't they, Howard? Me and a party of young fashionables have been keeping it up a bit to-day at my lodgings—on the strength of my intended marriage with Mrs. Goldberry, the rich widow——"
"Your marriage, Frank!" exclaimed Sir Christopher. "What—how—when——"
"Lord bless you, my dear uncle," said Mr. Curtis, swaying himself to and fro in a very extraordinary manner, "you don't half know what kind of a fellow I am. While you was away honeymooning and nonsense——"
"Nonsense, indeed!" exclaimed Lady Blunt, indignantly. "Come, Sir Christopher—it's no good staying here talking to Mr. Imperance."