"So now, Sinclair," and Sir Edward holds out his hand, "may I congratulate you and Honor on your formal engagement?" Of course every one flocks round them, and the general excitement is at high pitch for a few minutes, it being presently increased by Bobby contriving to upset a milk jug. For this catastrophe Honor is devoutly thankful, since it takes every one's attention away from herself for a time. Moreover, it benefits Vic and Timothy, who generally grace the tea-board with their presence. The former has been industriously shaking Honor's dress for the last few minutes, being under the impression that all the handshaking and kissing are some new kind of game. But they both rush forward now with one accord to the little pond of milk, which is rapidly sinking into the thirsty turf, and lap energetically until it is gone.
Presently, when they have all settled down again quietly, Mr. Edward Talboys plants his stick firmly on the grass in front of him and says:
"Now, there is one thing, my dear friends, that my brother Ben and I have set our hearts upon, and in case of any little misunderstanding in the future, we think it is best, perhaps, to mention it at once."
"Just so, just so," says Mr. Ben nodding.
"We wish very much to have the honour of giving away the two brides when the time for the wedding (which will be a double one, I suppose) shall come. We had looked forward, you know, to performing this little ceremony for Doris on the occasion of her becoming Lady Ferrars, but although we were obliged to make the best of it then, we much hope there will be no similar disappointment in store for us this time."
"My dear sirs, I am sure that nothing would please my sisters better," answers Sir Edward for the two girls. "I had intended taking that duty on myself, but you have a far superior claim; and so with your leave we will consider that matter settled. I shall devote myself exclusively to your mother, Doris, for the whole day, so you must look out for someone else."
"O, I shall find someone, never fear," retorts Lady Ferrars, tossing her fair little head at her lord.
"And what is to become of me, pray?" inquires Lady Woodhouse, looking round at every one in turn.
"O, I am going to be your cavalier, aunt," says Dick with a courtly bow. "Just you wait until you see me. I mean to get myself up to the nines, I can tell you, and you will be able to congratulate yourself on having the best-looking fellow in the church as your escort, not excepting the two bridegrooms."
"Dick!" cries every one together, and Lady Woodhouse, giving him a rap with the handle of her sunshade, says: