'I shall see him. It's all settled. I've made friends with one of the
gardeners at Woodbury Manor, and he's promised to put me in the way of
meeting His Royal Highness. I shall have to go over there for a day or two,
and stay in Woodbury, to be on the spot when the chance offers.'
Mr. Fouracres had evidently been making his compact with the aid of strong
liquor; he walked unsteadily, and in other ways betrayed imperfect command
of himself. Presently, at the tea-table, he revealed to his daughter the
great opportunity which lay before him, and spoke of the absence from home
it would necessitate.
'Of course you'll do as you like, father,' replied Miss Fouracres, with her
usual deliberation, and quite good-humouredly, 'but I think you're going on
a fool's errand, and that I tell you plain. If you'd just forget all about
the Prince, and settle down quiet at the Pig and Whistle, it 'ud be a good
deal better for you.'
The landlord regarded her with surprise and scorn. It was the first time
that his daughter had ventured to express herself so unmistakably.
'The Pig and Whistle!' he exclaimed. 'A pothouse! I who have kept an hotel
and entertained His Royal Highness. You speak like an ignorant woman.
Pages:
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456