ow the match to be a fair
one. So Julia could inform the squire that she and William had given the
unmarried pair a handsome beating, when he appeared peeping round one of
the shed-pillars.

'Of course you beat 'em,' said the squire. 'It 's not my girl's fault.'
He said more, to the old tune, which drove Janet away.

I remembered, when back in the London vortex, the curious soft beauty she
won from casting up her eyes to watch the descending feathers, and the
brilliant direct beam of those thick-browed, firm, clear eyes, with her
frown, and her set lips and brave figure, when she was in the act of
striking to keep up a regular quick fusilade. I had need of calm
memories. The town was astir, and humming with one name.

CHAPTER XLII

THE MARQUIS OF EDBURY AND HIS PUPPET

I passed from man to man, hearing hints and hesitations, alarming
half-remarks, presumed to be addressed to one who could supply the
remainder, and deduce consequences. There was a clearer atmosphere in the
street of Clubs. Jennings was the first of my father's more intimate
acquaintances to meet me frankly. He spoke, though not with great
seriousness, of the rumour of a possible prosecution. Sir Weeton Slater
tripped up to us with a mixed air of solicitude and restraint, asked
whether I was well, and whether I had seen the newspapers that morning;
and on my informing him that I had just come up from Riversley, on
account of certain rumours, advised me to remain in town strictly for the
present. He also hinted at rumours of prosecutions. 'The fact is----' he
began several times, rendered discreet, I suppose, by my juvenility,
fierte, and reputed wealth.

We were joined by Admiral Loftus and Lord Alton. They queried and
counterqueried as to passages between my father and the newspapers, my
father and the committee of his Club, preserving sufficient consideration
for me to avoid the serious matter in all but distant allusions; a point
upon which the breeding of Mr. Serjeant Wedderburn was not so accurate a
guide to him. An exciting public scandal soon gathers knots of gossips in
Clubland. We saw Wedderburn break from a group some way down the pavement
and pick up a fresh crumb of amusement at one of the doorsteps. 'Roy
Richmond is having his benefit to-day!' he said, and repeated this and
that, half audible to me. For the rest, he pooh-poohed the idea of the
Law intervening. His 'How d' ye do, Mr. Richmond, how d' ye do?' was
almost congratulat