He was now standing erect, no longer leaning against the window shutter, and holding his walking-cane very hard in both hands, and impressing Miss Perfect with a conviction of his being thoroughly in earnest.
“I tell you frankly, Mr. Trevor,” said Aunt Dinah, a little flushed with a sympathetic excitement, and evidently much pleased, “I did not expect this. I had fancied that you were not a likely person to marry, and to say truth, I sometimes doubted whether I ought to have allowed your visits here so frequently, at least as you have made them for the last few weeks. Of course I can see nothing that is not desirable, in fact highly advantageous in the proposal you make. Am I at liberty to write to Sergeant Darkwell on the subject?”
“Oh! certainly—exactly what I should wish.”
“I’m very sure he will see it in the same light that I do. We all know the Trevors of Revington, the position they have always held; and though I detest the line they took in the great civil war, and think your poor father had no business helping to introduce machinery into this part of the world as he did, and I always said so, I yet can see the many amiable qualities of his son, and I have no doubt that you will make a kind and affectionate husband. I must, however, tell you candidly, that I have never spoken of you to Violet Darkwell as a—in fact, in any other light than that of an acquaintance, and I cannot throw any light upon her feelings. You can ascertain them best for yourself. My belief is, that a girl should be left quite free to accept or decline in such a case, and I know that her father thinks exactly as I do.”
“I may write to Miss Darkwell, do you think? I suppose I had better?”
“No,” said Miss Perfect, with decision; “were I you I should much prefer speaking. Depend upon it, there’s more to be done by speaking. But as you are acquainted with her father, don’t you think you might write to him? Violet may return in three days, but will not, I think, quite so soon; and meanwhile you will have heard from him.”
“I think so. I’ll do it, certainly; and I—I feel that you’re my friend, Miss Perfect;” and he took her hand, and she took his very kindly.
“I’ve said my say; I highly approve, and I’m quite certain her father will also; he agrees with me on most points; he’s a very superior man.”
Vane Trevor, there and then, with Aunt Dinah’s concurrence, wrote his letter to Mr. Sergeant Darkwell; and then he walked with Aunt Dinah in the garden, talking incessantly of Violet, and it must be added, very much pleased with Miss Perfect’s evident satisfaction and elation; and he remained to dinner, a situation which two months ago would have appeared the most ludicrous and dismal in nature, and he gabbled of his lady love, asking questions and starting plans of all sorts.
And time flew so in this tête-à-tête, that they were surprised by the entrance of the household with the Bible and Prayer-book; and Mr. Vane Trevor, though not a particularly sober-minded youth, could not avoid accepting the role of the absent William Maubray, and officiated, much to the edification of the maids, in whose eyes the owner of Revington was a very high personage indeed; and “the chapter” for that evening delighted and overawed them, and they could hardly believe their eyes that the great squire of Revington was pent up with them in that small drawing-room, and kneeling and saying “amen,” and repeating the Lord’s Prayer after Miss Perfect, “as mild and humble” as one of themselves.