He had practiced a cheat, the more dastardly because the poor lady who had so narrowly escaped being his victim had nether father nor brother to avenge her.

And in every eye that was upon him Lord Rotherby might have read, had he had the wit to do so, the very sternest condemnation.
"A pretty story, as I've a soul!" was his grace's comment, when Mr.
Caryll had done.

"A pretty story, my Lord Rotherby.

I have a stomach for strong meat myself.

But--odds my life!--this is too nauseous!" Rotherby glared at him.