“Whatever you think right, I shall be delighted to do.”
“Do you really mean that?” said Cosin, still very seriously.
“Indeed I do. Everything I possess I would joyfully give to my sweet love,” looking at her with intense affection. “She is worth more than all I have beside.”
“But I want more than money and lands,” persisted Cosin. “Mind, you have agreed to do whatever I may propose.”
“Yes. Anything you require. I trust you as my own soul.”
“Then the marriage-settlement must be this: That so long as we all three live, you two shall
come and spend a good part of the summer with me every year, and that you will let me spend a good part of every winter with you in your sunny home. Provided always—here comes the lawyer—that if we do at any time wish to turn summer into winter, or winter into summer, we may do so by mutual agreement.”
“Could anything be better!” cried the others in great delight. “Agreed, agreed.”
Then Cosin, no longer able to look grave, laughingly exclaimed, “Signed, sealed, and delivered.”
A few weeks after, Captain Tournier went over to France to prepare his house for the reception of his bride. He did not stop long, but returned with a heart full of gratitude to God, and joyful expectation of a happy future.