The waiter told him all that he knew. Some thirty or forty guests
had come to the wedding-banquet, and had all been sent away with tidings
that the marriage had been--postponed.
"You might have told 'em a trifle more than that," said Lord George.
"Postponed was pleasantest, my lord," said the waiter. "Anyways, that was
said, and we supposes, my lord, as the things ain't wanted now."
Lord George replied that as far as he knew the things were not wanted, and
then continued his way up to Hertford Street.
At first he saw Lizzie Eustace, upon whom the misfortune of the day had
had a most depressing effect. The wedding was to have been the one morsel
of pleasing excitement which would come before she underwent the humble
penance to which she was doomed. That was frustrated and abandoned, and
now she could think only of Mr. Camperdown, her cousin Frank, and Lady
Glencora Palliser. "What's up now?" said Lord George, with that disrespect
which had always accompanied his treatment of her since she had told him
her secret. "What's the meaning of all this?"
"I dare say that you know as well as I do, my lord."
"I must know a good deal if I do.
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