‘When is it to be? When is it to come off? Has she to write to His Serene Highness the Prince of What’s-his-name?’
‘No, the Prince of What’s-his-name need not be consulted; Lord Kilgobbin will stand in the position of father to her.’
Lockwood muttered something, in which ‘Give her away!’ were the only words audible. ‘I must say,’ added he aloud, ‘the wooing did not take long.’
‘You forget that there was an actual engagement between us when I left this for London. My circumstances at that time did not permit me to ask her at once to be my wife; but our affections were pledged, and—even if more tender sentiments did not determine—my feeling, as a man of honour, required I should come back here to make her this offer.’
‘All right; I suppose it will do—I hope it will do; and after all, I take it, you are likely to understand each other better than others would.’
‘Such is our impression and belief.’
‘How will your own people—how will Danesbury like it?’
‘For their sakes I trust they will like it very much; for mine, it is less than a matter of indifference to me.’
‘She, however—she will expect to be properly received amongst them?’
‘Yes,’ cried Walpole, speaking for the first time in a perfectly natural tone, divested of all pomposity. ‘Yes, she stickles for that, Lockwood. It was the one point she seemed to stand out for. Of course I told her she would be received with open arms by my relatives—that my family would be overjoyed to receive her as one of them. I only hinted that my lord’s gout might prevent him from being at the wedding. I’m not sure Uncle Danesbury would not come over. “And the charming Lady Maude,” asked she, “would she honour me so far as to be a bridesmaid?”’