"Oh, I beg pardon," Sir Hervey said, a trifle drily. "A widow! Your humble servant, ma'am, to command. You will excuse me, I am sure. You are waiting for Mrs. Northey, I suppose?" he continued, looking from one to the other in seeming innocence.
Tom's face flamed. It was in vain Grocott from the doorway made signs to him to be silent. "They don't know," he blurted out.
Sir Hervey looked grave. "I am sorry for that," he said. "I am sure this lady would not wish you, Sir Tom, to do anything--anything underhand. You have your guardians' consent, of course?"
"No," Tom said flatly; "and I am not going to ask for it."
Outwardly, Sir Hervey raised his eyebrows in protest; inwardly, he saw that argument would be thrown away, and wondered what on earth he should do. He had no authority over the boy, and it was not likely that Dr. Keith, an irregular parson, would pay heed to him.
Madam Oriana, scared for a moment, discerned that he was at a loss, and smiled in triumph.
"Well, sir, have you anything more to say?" she cried.
"Not to Tom," Sir Hervey answered.
"And to me?"
"Only, ma'am, that a marriage is not valid if a false name be used."