also
another way, much more expeditious and less trouble. You obtain a fresh,
fair-sized special licence----"

"That's it," said Derrick, nodding. "Be serious, Rex, if you can. I want
to know all about it."

"Quite so. And you've come to the right shop," said Reggie. "A novelist
knows everything, or what's the use of him! I'll tell you all about it.
And so you're going to marry your true love out of hand?" he said, when
he had imparted the required information. "I don't blame you. If my
angel would consent to marry me, I'd marry her the first available day,
hour, instant. But why this haste on your part? I should have thought
Miss Grant would have stipulated for the usual fuss and flare-up,
bridesmaids, wedding cake, speeches, reception, et cetera."

"She ought to have them all," said Derrick, with a sigh. "But there are
reasons why we should be married at once."

"One angel the less in England," said Reggie, with a sigh. "Well, you
leave it all to me. I'll fix it for you, as the Americans say. By the
way, do you know my friend, Lady Gridborough?"

"I did, but I don't," said Derrick, shortly. "At least, she doesn't know
me now--as you saw. No, I can't tell you. Confound it all, I'm like a
man in a beastly novel, a man 'with a secret,' a mystery."

"'Beastly novel!' I forgive you the blasphemy," said Reggie, "because I
treasure you. A real live man with a secret is more precious than rubies
in the eyes of a novelist. There, go in and get something to eat, if you
can eat; I couldn't, if I were going to marry Celia Grant."

"And I can't--eat, I mean," said Derrick, and with something between a
laugh and a sigh he rose and went into the inn.

CHAPTER XXV

Heyton slept badly that night and came down to breakfast after Lord
Sutcombe and Miriam had finished theirs and gone out. He was in a bad
temper, cursed the footman who waited on him, and when he had drunk a
cup of coffee and made pretence of eating a piece of toast, mixed
himself a glass of soda and whisky and went out.

He wandered about the park, and did not come in to lunch, but when he
appeared at dinner, he was more than usually cheerful and talked to
Miriam and his father in the aimless and futile way with which a man
talks when he is engaged in the unaccustomed task of making himself
agreeable. Both Miriam and his father noticed that he was more sparing
of the wine than usual, and Lord Sutcombe, who thought that Miriam had
given Percy a hint, gl