"I—oh! I thought your cheek was paining you," said she, petulantly.
"My cheek?—what has that to do with it?"
"Everything, sir!"
"That," said Barnabas, "that I don't understand."
"Of course you don't!" she retorted.
"Hum!" said Barnabas.
"And now!" she demanded, "pray how did you know I was to be at
Oakshott's Barn to-night?"
"From my valet."
"Your valet?"
"Yes; though to be sure, he was a poacher, then."