"A presumptuous young coxcomb," he muttered. "Does he think that being 'top-shearer' gives him a right to make love to Charlotte Sandal?"
In the morning he wrote the following letter:—
Nephew Julius Sandal,—I hear you are at Oxford, and I should think you would wish to make the acquaintance of your nearest relatives. They will be glad to see you at Seat-Sandal during the vacation, if your liking leads you that way. To hear soon from you is the hope of your affectionate uncle,
WILLIAM SANDAL, of Sandal-Side.
He finished the autograph with a broad flourish, and handed the paper to his wife. "What do you think of that, Alice? Eh? What?"
There was a short silence, then Mrs. Sandal laid the note upon the table. "I don't think over much of it, William. Good-fortune won't bear hurrying. Can't you wait till events ripen naturally?"
"And have all my plans put out of the way?"
"Are you sure that your plans are the best plans?"
"They will be a bit better than any Charlotte and Stephen Latrigg have made."