“Yes?” said Christopher John.
Audrey produced a letter.
“Read that,” she said.
Dear Miss de Lisle,
I know you well by repute, and I am satisfied that, when one so correct as yourself is impelled to take up the cudgels upon my tenants’ behalf, only a high sense of duty can have created that impulse. I therefore accept your letter as that of a cousin, and as such I answer it.
You and I are plainly of different schools. You believe in the snaffle, and I believe in the curb. I do not suggest that you are wrong or argue that I am right, but what I have I will hold—in my own way. Call me hard, if you please, and say that I gather where I have not strawed. My withers are unwrung. I am of the other school. While I am Lord of the Manor, I will sell none of my land nor will I alter my ways. Horses are meant to be ridden, and, while I am in the saddle, I will ride Sundial on the curb.
I say ‘while I am in the saddle.’
Your letter was unusual enough to interest anyone. Coming from you, it interested me very much. I therefore sent for Mr. John, the pupil to my late agent, and, as I expected, he was able to tell me as much as I wanted to know. I have requested him, should you desire it, so far as he can, to do you the same office. Ask him, and he will tell you what manner of man I am.
You will wonder why I should take pains to put such information at your disposal. It is because I am willing to strike a bargain with you.
If you will become my wife, I will give to you absolutely all my title-deeds (including, of course, those of the Manor House) and assign to you every manorial right that I possess. In a word, I will make you the Lady of the Manor.