"In a word, had you such information by or through means of Lord Etherington ?--Answer me this single question, and then I shall know better what to think on the subject." "Upon my honour," said Touchwood, "I neither had my information from Lord Etherington directly nor indirectly.

I say thus much to give you satisfaction, and I now expect you will hear me with patience." "Forgive me, sir," interrupted Mowbray, "one farther question.

I understand something was said in disparagement of my sister just as I entered the tea-room ?" "Hem--hem--hem!" said Touchwood, hesitating.

"I am sorry your ears have served you so well--something there _was_ said lightly, something that can be easily explained, I dare say;--And now, Mr.Mowbray, let me speak a few serious words with you." "And now, Mr.Touchwood, we have no more to say to each other--good evening to you." He brushed past the old man, who in vain endeavoured to stop him, and, hurrying to the stable, demanded his horse.

It was ready saddled, and waited his orders; but even the short time that was necessary to bring it to the door of the stable was exasperating to Mowbray's impatience.
Not less exasperating was the constant interceding voice of Touchwood, who, in tones alternately plaintive and snappish, kept on a string of expostulations.
"Mr.Mowbray, only five words with you--Mr.Mowbray, you will repent this--Is this a night to ride in, Mr.Mowbray ?--My stars, sir, if you would but have five minutes' patience!" Curses, not loud but deep, muttered in the throat of the impatient laird, were the only reply, until his horse was brought out, when, staying no farther question, he sprung into the saddle.