“Egad, sir,” said he, “I should think I might be pardoned for staring. How come they to be here? It puzzles me, I own.”
“Who here?” blurted Thornby. “This gentleman and lady, d’ye mean?”
“Ay, the gentleman and lady I’ve been in search of.”
“Why, you don’t desire to stop ’em, do you? What the deuce is little Sue Marvell to you?—and Dick Birch? Captain Marvell is no friend of yours. Rather help these young people away, if only for the joke on Dick Birch.”
“Of what are you talking?” cried Foxwell. “Can it be possible you don’t know who these young people are?”
“I don’t know much of the gentleman,” Thornby admitted; “but the girl is Sukey Marvell.”
“Sukey Marvell!—Sukey devil!” exclaimed Foxwell, and, striding up to Georgiana, he snatched the handkerchief from her face. Everell had left her standing at the end of the table, himself having moved around to Thornby’s former place a moment earlier for a purpose of his own. Checking an impulse to go to Georgiana’s side, he now stood between the magisterial chair and the table. Despite all that was at stake, he was amused at the sight of Thornby gazing with mouth wide open at the face so unexpectedly revealed.
“It seems you find reason to stare now,” said Foxwell to the Squire. “Egad, Thornby, had they bamboozled you?”
“Mr. Thornby, I hold you to your promise,” Everell put in; “a chaise, horses, and a man.”
“Chaise, horses, and damnation!” was the reply of Thornby, as he at last found a voice. “I never knew ’twas she you was a-running away with. You said ’twas Sukey Marvell.”