It would not have occurred to Brooke Dalton to ask for a letter of recommendation when he went a-courting, but Sydney's words did not strike him as incongruous at the time, and he was simple enough to believe that a brother's influence would weigh with a woman of Lettice's calibre in the choice of a partner for life.
Sydney delivered the letter into his keeping next day, and then went up to town, where he was to meet Sir John Pynsent at the Club.
Dalton had been mistaken when he conjectured that Sydney's intentions were to consult Sir John about his pretension to Miss Pynsent's hand. Sydney had not yet got so far. He had made up his mind that he wanted Anna Pynsent for a wife more than he had ever wanted any woman in the world; and the encouragement that he had received from Sir John and Lady Pynsent made him conscious that they were not very likely to deny his suit. And yet he paused. It seemed to him that he would like a longer interval to pass before he asked Nan Pynsent to marry him—a longer space in which to put away certain memories and fears which became more bitter to him every time that they recurred.
It was simply a few words on political matters that he wanted with Sir John; but they had the room to themselves, and Sydney was hardly surprised to find that the conversation had speedily drifted round to personal topics, and that the baronet was detailing his plans for the autumn, and asking Sydney to form one of his house-party in September. Sydney hesitated in replying. He thought to himself that he should not care to go unless he was sure that Miss Pynsent meant to accept him. Perhaps Sir John attributed his hesitation to its real cause, for he said, more heartily than ever.
"We all want you, you know. Nan is dying to talk over your constituents with you. She has got some Workmen's Club on hand that she wants the member to open, with an appropriate speech, so you had better prepare yourself."
"Miss Pynsent is interested in the Vanebury workmen. I shall be delighted to help at any time."
"Too much interested," said Sir John, bluntly. "I'll tell her she'll be an out and out Radical by and by. You know she has a nice little place of her own just outside Vanebury, and she vows she'll go and live there when she is twenty-one, and work for the good of the people. My authority over her will cease entirely when she is of age."
"But not your influence," said Sydney.
"Well—I don't know that I have very much. The proper person to influence Nan will be her husband, when she has one."
"If I were not a poor man——" Sydney began impulsively, and then stopped short. But a good-humored curl of Sir John's mouth, an inquiring twinkle in his eye, told him that he must proceed. So, in five minutes, his proposal was made, and a good deal earlier than he had expected it to be. It must be confessed that Sir John had led him on. And Sir John was unfeignedly delighted, though he tried to pretend doubt and indifference.