"Hath been afoot, Sir John. But took to her bed half an hour since."
"What, what? Is she ailing?"
The butler could not say, but looked a volume of secrets, so that Sir
John swore him out of the room.
"Vaporous old wench, Charles," Sir John snorted. And a second time Mr.
Hadley shrugged.
In a little while the butler came back even more puffed up. Her ladyship hoped to receive the gentlemen in half an hour.
CHAPTER XII
IN HASTE
Oh, Harry, Harry, I give in. I am the weaker vessel. At least, I have the shorter legs."
"What, you're asking me to spare you already? Lord, how will you bear me as a husband?"
They were under the great beeches in Hampstead Lane, breasting the rise to the heath, on their march for that kindly chapel, where, if you dined in the tavern annexed, the incumbent would marry you for nothing, charge but the five shillings, cost price of the Queen's licence, and ask no questions.