“I wrote to him immediately and told him everything. Of course I had John’s leave for doing so.”
This calling of my sedate friend by the name of John was, to my feeling, a most wonderful breaking down of all proprieties.
“I told him the exact truth. This morning I got an answer from him saying that he should visit Russia. I am so sorry because of his mother and sisters.”
“And when is it to be?”
“Oh, at once, immediately. So John says. When we resolve on doing these things here, on taking the plunge, we never stand shilly-shallying on the brink as your girls do in England. And that is one reason why I have sent for you. You must promise to go over with us. Do you know I am half afraid of him,—much more afraid of him than I am of you.”
They were to be married very early in May, and of course I promised to put off my return for a week or two to suit them.
“And then for the she baronet,” she said, “and for all the terrible grandeur of London!”
When I endeavoured to explain to her that she would encounter no great grandeur, she very quickly corrected me.
“It is not grandeur of that sort, but the grandeur of coldness that I mean. I fear that I shall not do for them. But, Mr. Green, I must tell you one thing. I have not cut off from myself all means of retreat.”
“Why, what do you mean? You have resolved to marry him.”