"Oh, Horace!" exclaimed Aunt Harriet.
"It's mine," said the young man with a nervous little laugh. "And—since Brackenhill is mine too—it is time that my wife should come home."
There was a startled movement and a sudden exclamation of surprise, though it would have been impossible to say who moved or spoke.
"Your wife! Do you mean that you are going to be married?" said Hardwicke.
"No. I mean that I am married," Horace replied. "Oh, it's all right enough. I took care of that. You shall know all about it."
"But how? when? who is she?" Mrs. Middleton had her hand on his arm and was stammering in her eagerness. "Oh, my dear boy, why didn't we know?"
"Because Mrs. Horace Thorne was Miss Adelaide Blake," said Hammond decisively.
Horace turned upon him and said "No," and he was utterly confounded.
"But who, then? Tell us."
Horace looked at Percival, the only one who had been silent. "Why not Lottie?" he said, and the tone was full of meaning.