"Augustin, my boy," said Goring, "these are surprising events, very surprising events. I thought I understood something about women, but I find I'm as ignorant as a two-year-old. What the devil does Penelope mean?"
Bob intervened.
"I believe, grandfather, that she wants to make you all sit up," he said, eagerly.
"Shut up, Bob," said the duke. "Eat pie and hold your tongue. Augustin, is she married, or isn't she?"
"I'm sure of it," said Bradstock, "but—"
"I think it's a damn silly business," said the duke. "I can't remember any parallel except when Miss Wimple, who was a devilish pretty girl fifty years ago, married Prince Scharfskopf morganatically, and kept it dark in spite of twins. There was a devil of a fuss, but it was kept quiet, no announcements in papers, and so on. The emperor boxed Scharfskopf's ears in court when it came out, for it upset his diplomatic apple-cart, as Scharfskopf was to have married Princess Hedwig of Wigstein. She was virtuous and particular, and made trouble, being thirty-five. Do you think Penelope has married any damn prince, for instance?"
Bradstock didn't think so.
"Was any prince sneaking about, eh?"
"Oh, I say," cried Bob, who was listening eagerly, "there was the Rajah of Jugpore!"
"Good heavens!" said Goring, "so there was. I say, Bradstock, what have you to say to that? I'd like to have a look at the infant. Damme, it's a wonderful world!"