Flower stared.
“How?” he enquired, briefly.
“Married ’er,” said the old man, chuckling. “You wouldn’t believe wot a lot there was arter her. I got ’er afore she knew where she was a’most. If I was to tell you all that there was arter’er, you’d hardly believe me.”
“I daresay,” said the other.
“There’s good news and bad news,” continued Captain Barber, shaking his head and coughing a bit with his pipe. “I’ve got a bit o’ bad for you.”
Flower waited.
“’Lizabeth’s married,” said the old man, slowly; “married that stupid young Gibson. She’ll be sorry enough now, I know.”
His nephew looked down. “I’ve heard about it,” he said, with an attempt at gloom; “old George told me.”
The old man, respecting his grief, smoked on for some time in silence, then he got up and patted him on the shoulder.
“I’m on the look-out for you,” he said, kindly; “there’s a niece o’ your aunt’s. I ain’t seen her yet; but your aunt praises of her, so she’s all right. I’ll tell your aunt to ask ’er over. Your aunt ses—”