Those two were on their bridal tour.
This creature was also the daughter of an ancient impostor and desperado called the Old Buccaneer; a distinguished member of the family of the Lincolnshire Kirbys, boasting a present representative grimly acquitted, men said, on a trial for murder.

An eminent alliance! Society considered the Earl of Fleetwood wildish, though he could manage his affairs.

He and his lawyers had them under strict control.

How of himself?
The prize of the English marriage market had taken to his bosom for his winsome bride the daughter of the Old Buccaneer.

He was to mix his blood with the blood of the Lincolnshire Kirbys, lying pallid under the hesitating acquittal of a divided jury.
How had he come to this pass, which swung him round to think almost regretfully of the scorned multitude of fair besiegers in the market, some of whom had their unpoetic charms?
He was renowned and unrivalled as the man of stainless honour: the one living man of his word.