“‘I have had one to-day,’ thought William, and was almost at fault. ‘I shall be most thankful, sir—they sell horse-flesh by the ounce now-a-days.’
“‘And you pay in pounds. There, William.’
“‘Thank you, sir, I’m all obedience; and I’ll keep my word, even if there should be a comet. I’ll go and buy the horse, and then I shall be ready to take the ring-fence as soon as you please.’
“‘Yes, and you’ll get over it cleverly, I’ve no doubt. Five thousand acres, William, and—a pretty wife!’
“‘Have you any further commands, uncle?’ said William, depositing the cheque in his pocket-book.
“‘None, my dear boy: are you going?’
“‘Yes, sir; I dine at the Clarendon.’
“‘Well, then, good-bye. Make my compliments and excuses to your friend Seagrove. You will come on Tuesday or Wednesday.’
“Thus was concluded the marriage between William Ponsonby and Emily Percival, and the junction of the two estates, which formed together the great desideratum—five thousand acres in a ring-fence.”
Mr Seagrove finished, and he looked round for approbation.