And once--the guardian angel sniggered when he remembered this--Sir Evelyn answering a tiresome questioner in Parliament, had said that he saw no reason why any of the existing laws should be repealed.
Here, surely, was an instance of that poetic justice, far too rare in the world, in which all good men rejoice and which angels, guardian and others, can scarce forbear to cheer.
But justice in this world is seldom perfect and even angels sometimes smile too soon. It appeared that James Hinton was no fanatical worshipper of the letter of the law.
"If I might venture to make a suggestion, Sir Evelyn----" he said and paused.
Sir Evelyn was surprised by the use of his name and title. He had never been in Hailey Compton before and this prompt recognition was unexpected. A man may be an ex-Cabinet Minister, may be adorned with a knighthood, may be, as Sir Evelyn was, the son of one earl, brother of another and uncle of a third, may be entitled to be styled the Honourable, besides being a knight; but he does not go about the world with a placard round his neck announcing these glories. He looked sharply at the innkeeper.
James Hinton offered an apologetic explanation of his knowledge.
"I sometimes had the pleasure of waiting on you, sir, when I was first footman in the service of your brother, the late earl."
He began to feel hopeful. A retired servant is a family friend and ought to have more respect for the memory of a dead master than he has for an existing law.
"If I might venture to suggest, sir----" said Hinton again.
"You may suggest anything," said Sir Evelyn, "except lemonade. That, I cannot stand."
"Nothing would induce me to offer you such a thing, sir. If you'll excuse my mentioning a personal matter, sir, I have lived in good houses, some of the best in England, before coming here, and I'm aware that lemonade--with the possible exception of the home-brewed variety when suffering from influenza----"
"If it's not lemonade," said Sir Evelyn, "what is it?"
"My suggestion, sir--and I hope you will not regard it as unduly familiar from one in my position in life--is that you should be my guest, my private guest, for perhaps ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, and during that time share a jug of beer with me in my little room, my own snuggery, behind the bar. There is, of course, no question of payment. Therefore there is no breach of the law."