"
"Needn't trouble," put in Gammon. "I know it all. Got it out of a
book. I'll tell you afterwards, Polly."
"Ah, got it out of a book? Why, you are becoming quite a
genealogist, Gammon, I need only say, then, that he did not give a
thought to the title. He chose to earn his own bread, and live his
own life, like ordinary mortals. He took the name of Clover. Of
course, you see why."
"Hanged if I do," said Gammon.
"Why, my dear fellow, are not clover and trefoil the same things?
Don't you see? Trefoyle. Only a little difference of accent."
"Never heard the word. Did you, Polly?"
"Not me."
"Ah! not unnatural. An out-of-the-way word." Greenacre hid his
contempt beneath a smile. "Well now, I repeat that Lord Polperro
longs to return to the bosom of his family. He has even gone in the
darkness of the night to look at his wife's abode, and returned home
in misery. A fact! At this moment--your attention, I beg--I am
assisting him to form a plan by which he will be enabled to live a
natural life without the unpleasantness of public gossip.
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