As became a man of leisure, Cheriton was very leisurely in his methods. He did not propose to marry Miss Perry until the spring. Caroline was inclined to demur. She did not care to let the grass grow under her feet. Cheriton might change his mind, or a hundred things might happen. Stability at any rate was not his forte.
“No, my dear Caroline,” said a sagacity that was in nowise less than her own, “the creature is a little undeveloped at present to my mind. A few months more of the great world in order that she may acquire a deeper sense of the responsibilities of the position will do her no harm. Besides spring, my dear Caroline, is the time for marriage. It is the vernal season. It is nature’s own appointed wedding-day.”
Caroline did not concur, of course. It only remained for her, however, to acquiesce ungraciously. Yet there was one thing she could do, and this she did. She sent for her lawyer to have the terms of the nuptial contract set out in form. Her old and trusted legal adviser, Mr. Giles Grabham, of Messrs. Pettigrew, Grabham, Grabham, and Horrobin, of Old Square, Lincoln’s Inn, spent two nights and a day at Pen-y-Gros Castle, and placed the matter on a comprehensive basis. Cheriton appeared to derive a great deal of amusement from the whole proceeding. However, he was prevailed upon to attach what Mr. Grabham called “a provisional signature to the memorandum.”
Divers copies were engrossed of what Mr. Grabham called “the instrument,” by the clerical staff of Messrs. Pettigrew, Grabham, Grabham, and Horrobin, one of which was duly forwarded to Lord Cheriton at Pen-y-Gros Castle, North Wales, two days after his lordship’s departure from the Principality. It was accompanied by two others addressed to the Countess of Crewkerne.
Upon the receipt of these documents Miss Perry was commanded by Aunt Caroline to write to her papa to explain the signal honor that had been conferred upon her; and to inclose a copy of the deed of settlement for his inspection, sanction, and signature. In obedience to this command, with infinite labor and difficulty and many tears, Miss Perry composed the following:—
Papa Dearest,—Aunt Caroline desires me to write to inform you that her old friend the Earl of Cheriton has done me the honor of wishing to marry me—that is, Papa Dearest, if you have no objection. Aunt Caroline desires me to say that in her judgment there can be no possible objection to Lord Cheriton, as he is very rich, his life has been worthy, and she has known him herself personally for more than sixty years. Aunt Caroline desires me to enclose this copy of the deed of settlement, which she hopes you will approve and return to her with your signature. With fondest love, Papa Dearest, and twelve kisses, which I enclose xxxxxxxxxxxx, Believe me to remain your most Dutiful and Affectionate Daughter
Araminta.
P.S. Have you any objection to Muffin marrying Jim Lascelles, who used to live at the Red House at Widdiford? It would be too sweet.
The more formal part of this production had been written to Aunt Caroline’s dictation. She inspected the finished performance grimly. The writing was large and round and as transparently simple as Miss Perry’s own countenance, and it was blotted freely with tears. In the fullest sense of the term it was a human document, and as such Aunt Caroline decided that it should be sent. Miss Perry was not the first Wargrave who had been consigned to the scaffold, and doubtless she would not be the last.
A week elapsed before a reply was received at Pen-y-Gros Castle, and even then the copy of the deed was not returned indorsed with the signature of the Reverend Aloysius Perry. His communication upon the subject was as follows:—