He was looking pale and ill. Arriving at the chapel, their wonder increased. Oh! that I should live to be father-in-law to a peer of France! What would my poor wife say to it, if she could come to life again? Oh, Thames!—my lord marquis, I mean—you have made me the happiest—the proudest of mankind. "He is," replied a portly personage, arrayed in a gorgeous yellow brocade dressing-gown, lined with cherry-coloured satin, and having a crimson velvet cap, surmounted by a gold tassel, on his head. "Well, how goes it?" he asked. A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. ‘I’m not going to arrest you, young Jack—yet.
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