“And, besides,” said Drusilla, dropping reason and resorting to sentiment, “it is such a pity not to make them happy when you have the power to do it.”
“I will think of what you have advanced, my dear Drusilla,” said the veteran, gravely. “But Lord bless my soul alive!” he added, elevating his eyebrows, “now I do think of it, the young man himself has not petitioned for a curtailment of his probation!”
“Oh, uncle, has he not? Not, not in set terms, perhaps, because you absolutely forbade him to resume the subject until the specified year should have terminated; and of course he felt, and still feels, bound to obey you. But has not his whole conduct for the last five months been a plea for the commutation of his sentence? Has not every word, look and act of his life here been a declaration of devotion to Anna, a prayer for mercy from you, and a promise of fidelity to both?”
“I cannot deny that.”
“Then, dear uncle, let them marry at once. Oh, forgive my plain speech! for you know you told me to speak my thoughts freely.”
“Certainly.”
“Then let them marry at once.”
“Is there no other reason you would like to urge why they should be made happy, as you express it, just now?”
“Oh, yes, dear sir; if you make them wait until the time of probation is out, it will bring the wedding to the middle of November—sad November, which is always gloomy enough in itself and is now doubly gloomy to us from its associations. Three times Anna’s marriage has been appointed to take place in November, and three times it has been defeated—twice by death, and once—but we will say no more of that. Let us change the month and even the season, dear sir. Let the marriage come off in May—this next May it is now beautiful spring—the best season in the year for a wedding and a wedding tour. Let them marry and go; and you and I and little Leonard will stay here and have a good time this summer. In autumn they will return and join us again. And early in the winter we will all go up to Washington and live at Cedarwood during the season. Dear uncle, I do think you had better let them get their wedding tour over this summer. You will miss Anna very much less in summer than in winter.”
“That is very true,” said the General, reflectively.