"And so you did not go, I presume you mean," cried Lord Henry, with a laugh.
"Yes," said John, "and so I stayed--but where is Denbigh?"
"Where?--why with his wife, where every well-behaved man should be, especially for the first month," rejoined the sailor, gaily.
"Wife!" echoed John, as soon as he felt able to give utterance to his words--"wife! is he married?"
"Married," cried Lord Henry, imitating his manner, "are you yet to learn that? why did you ask for him?"
"Ask for him!" said Moseley, yet lost in astonishment; "but when--how--where did he marry--my lord?"
Lord Henry looked at him for a moment with a surprise little short of his own, as he answered more gravely:
"When?--last Tuesday; how? by special license, and the Bishop of----; where?--at Eltringham:--yes, my dear fellow," continued he, with his former gaiety, "George is my brother now--and a fine fellow he is."
"I really wish your lordship much joy," said John, struggling to command his feelings.
"Thank you--thank you," replied the sailor; "a jolly time we had of it, Moseley. I wish, with all my heart, you had been there; no bolting or running away as soon as spliced, but a regularly constructed, old-fashioned wedding; all my doings. I wrote Laura that time was scarce, and I had none to throw away on fooleries; so dear, good soul, she consented to let me have everything my own way. We had Derwent and Pendennyss, the marquess, Lord William, and myself, for groomsmen, and my three sisters--ah, that was bad, but there was no helping it--Lady Harriet Denbigh, and an old maid, a cousin of ours, for bridesmaids; could not help the old maid either, upon my honor, or be quite certain I would."