Part 60 (1/2)

”'July, uncle! Spare me--I cannot marry in the dog-days. No, hang it, not July.'

”'Well, William, perhaps, as you must come down once or twice to see the property--Miss Percival, I should say--it may be too soon--suppose we put it off till October.'

”'October--I shall be down at Melton.'

”'Pray, sir, may I then inquire what portion of the year is not, with you, _dog_-days?'

”'Why, uncle, next April, now--I think that would do.'

”'Next April. Eleven months, and a winter between. Suppose Miss Percival was to take a cold, and die.'

”'I should be excessively obliged to her,' thought William.

”'No! no!' continued Mr Ponsonby: 'there is nothing certain in this world, William.'

”'Well, then, uncle, suppose we arrange it for the first _hard frost_.'

”'We have had no hard frosts lately, William.--We may wait for years.-- The sooner it is over the better.--Go back to town, buy your horse, and then come down here--my dear William, to oblige your uncle--never mind the dog-days.'

”'Well, sir, if I am to make a sacrifice, it shall not be done by halves; out of respect for you I will even marry in July, without any regard to the thermometer.'

”'You are a good boy, William.--Do you want a cheque?'

”'I have had one to-day,' thought William, and was almost at fault. 'I shall be most thankful, sir--they sell horse-flesh by the ounce now-a-days.'

”'And you pay in pounds.--There, William.'

”'Thank you, sir, I'm all obedience; and I'll keep my word, even if there should be a comet. I'll go and buy the horse, and then I shall be ready to take the ring-fence as soon as you please.'

”'Yes, and you'll get over it cleverly, I've no doubt.--Five thousand acres, William, and--a pretty wife!'

”'Have you any further commands, uncle?' said William, depositing the cheque in his pocket-book.

”'Now, my dear boy, are you going?'

”'Yes, sir; I dine at the Clarendon.'

”'Well, then, good-bye.--Make my compliments and excuses to your friend Seagrove.--You will come on Tuesday or Wednesday.'

”Thus was concluded the marriage between William Ponsonby and Emily Percival, and the junction of the two estates, which formed together the great desideratum,--_five thousand acres in a ring-fence_.”

Mr Seagrove finished, and he looked round for approbation.

”Very good, indeed, Seagrove,” said his lords.h.i.+p, ”you must take a gla.s.s of wine after that.”

”I would not give much for Miss Percival's chance of happiness,”

observed the elder Miss Ossulton.

”Of two evils choose the least, they say,” observed Mr Hautaine. ”Poor Ponsonby could not help himself.”