Of course the
loquacious beadle talked chiefly of Sir Philip Jocelyn and the banker's
daughter; and again the sporting gentleman from London heard of Henry
Dunbar's riches.
"I _have_ heerd as Mr. Dunbar is the richest man in Europe, exceptin'
the Hemperore of Roosia and Baron Rothschild," the beadle said; "but I
don't know anythink more than that he's got a deal more money than he
knows what to do with, seein' that he passes the best part of his days
sittin' over the fire in his own room, or ridin' out after dark on
horseback, if report speaks correct."
"I tell you what I'll do," said the Major; "as I am in Lisford,--and, to
be candid with you, Lisford's about the dullest place it was ever my bad
luck to visit,--why, I'll stay and have a look at this wedding. I
suppose you can put me into a quiet pew, back yonder in the shadow,
where I can see all that's going on, without any of your fine folks
seeing me, eh?"
As the Major emphasized this question by dropping half-a-crown into the
beadle's hand, that official answered it very promptly,--
"I'll put you into the comfortablest pew you ever sat in," answered the
official.
"You might do that easily," muttered the sporting gentleman, below his
breath; "for there's not many pews, or churches either, that _I_'ve ever
sat in.
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