Part 12 (2/2)
”Much obliged to you, I'm sure.”
”What do you mean?”
”For saying a good word for my wife.”
”Your wife?”
”Mrs. Thomas Stanham--_nee_ Cullen.”
”Tommy! You don't mean it!”
”You can bet your pile I do, and then safely go one better. I've got a copy of the marriage certificate in my pocket, and I rather fancy that she's got the original doc.u.ment in hers.”
”You--young blackguard!”
”Sort of cousin of yours, ain't I, Datchet? It's all in the family, you know, blackguard and all.”
”How did you do it?--And when?--And who knows?”
”Only you and me, and the lady. That's what's weighing on my mind.
What's the good of having a wife if she ain't your wife--or, at any rate, if you daren't say that she's your wife, for the life of you?”
The Duke suddenly rose from his seat. He seemed to be in a state of actual agitation.
”Tommy, do you know that the Chancellor is coming here?”
”Who?”
”The Lord Chancellor. The carriage went to meet him an hour ago. I expect him every moment.”
Mr. Stanham looked a trifle blank.
”I didn't know the ministry was formed.”
”It's formed, but it's not announced; Triggs is to be the Chancellor.”
”And what sort of gentleman may Triggs be when he's at home?”
”Sir Tristram? Well!” The Duke was walking up and down the room. He appeared to be reflecting. ”He's rather a queer card, Triggs is. He's been a bit of a wildish character in his time--and they do say that his time's not long gone. He has a temper of his own--a nasty one.”
Pausing, the Duke fixedly regarded Mr. Stanham. ”I should say that when Triggs learns what you have done he will clap you into gaol, and keep you there, at any rate until Miss Cullen ceases to be a ward of the court.”
Mr. Stanham's countenance wore a look of dire consternation.
”No! She's to be a ward until she's twenty-five, and she's not yet twenty-two.”
”Then, in that case, I should say that, at the very least, you are in for three good years of prison. My advice to you is----”
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