Whilst this was going on, Sir John Newark was meditating what he should next do. It was very difficult, on all occasions, to get rid of Sir James Mount; and, taking into consideration the improbability of his succeeding in an attempt to do so, and the length of time he should probably be obliged to stay, he made up his mind to engage him to dine in a private room, saying to himself--"I shall, at all events, get from him every piece of news that is going about the country, and shall prevent him from doing mischief with his tongue for an hour and a half at least." Sir James was delighted with the proposal, and, although the hour was somewhat late for the early habits of that period, the number of gentlemen who had visited the town in the course of the day had created great activity at the inn, and dinner was easily procurable. As soon as it was upon the table in the little parlour to which they were shown, Sir John Newark, who had been kept in some uneasiness by the incessant loquacity of his companion, dismissed the man who brought in the dishes, saying, as soon as he was gone, with a meaning nod, to worthy Sir James-- "It is better to be alone when we may have important subjects to talk of." "True, true, true," returned the other. "In such things, I am always discreet--discreet--discreet. I know how to be silent--silent--silent, Newark. No one can keep a secret better than I can, in case of need. I was just at that moment--at that moment--at that moment, thinking of Lord Eskdale; but I was as mum as a mouse--mum as a mouse--mum as a mouse, while the man was in the room." Sir John Newark had by this time made up his mind as to the course he should pursue in case of the Earl of Eskdale's name being again mentioned, and he instantly caught at Sir James's words, saying. "Ay, the Earl of Eskdale. Can you tell me anything about him? He must now be advancing in life." "Poo, poo! you are thinking of the father," replied Sir James. "He died last year, quite a young man; not fifty, I should think--I should think--I should think--married very early, you know, and left one son--know them all quite well--Lady Eskdale is an old friend of mine." "Is that the young Lady Eskdale or the old Lady Eskdale!" asked Sir John Newark; and then, seeing that he had a little betrayed himself, he added, to cover the mistake, "I suppose the young lord is married." "Married--married--married! Oh dear, no. He is not married," said Sir James; "was not a month ago, at all events; I was over the water upon a little business--business--business. I could not see the old lady, because she was very ill in bed--in bed--in bed; but I inquired into all the particulars of the family, and found them better off than most over there, on account of the Keanton estate--estate--estate."