He had about determined to do so, when a letter arrived from Mr. Mervyn. This gentleman had not forgotten the curate's Christmas sermon, and through his own influence had obtained the offer of a living for Arthur. It was of considerable value, but at a distance from Little Cray. With this letter in hand, he went to Mr. Spencer and told his twofold tale—the story of Mr. Mervyn's offer and of his own affection for Anna.
In answer to the latter, the squire opened the door of his daughter's pretty room, and told Arthur to repeat his story there; Anna's reply would serve for her father too, he said; and so he left them together.
I do not quite know how it is, that the very words used by wooers, and all the little tender accompaniments which wait upon an offer and its acceptance can be given in detail, unless a bird of the air does indeed carry the matter. The public are generally informed by us tale-tellers of everything done and every word said by our heroes and heroines when the crisis of their fate arrives. I will not be so communicative, though I could tell if I chose. Enough, that when the door of Anna's boudoir reopened she came out, led by Arthur, whose face sufficed to show Mr. Spencer what answer he had won. And as the girl threw her arms round her father's neck, and laid her bonny, blushing cheek on his shoulder, the squire clasped the young man's hand in his, and confirmed his daughter's gift.
"Only," he said, "I cannot spare her from Little Cray. If she does not reign under the old roof; she must have her new nest quite near it."
Matters were arranged in this wise: By dint of Mr. Mervyn's friendly efforts, the new and more valuable living was offered to Mr. Worthington, who, in consideration of his growing family, accepted the same. Arthur became rector, instead of curate, of Little Cray, and by the time the little sister's trousseau was ready, and her future home prepared by her expectant bridegroom, Miss Spencer was also ready to take her part in a double marriage ceremony, with Arthur.
When Arthur and his bride returned to Little Cray, after the usual tour, he on one occasion spoke to Mr. Spencer of the anonymous Christmas-box—
"I always felt that I had only one friend who would do a kind act so kindly. But for the encouragement then conveyed, I should never have dared to ask you for Anna," said he.
Then he discovered that Mr. Spencer had neither part nor lot in the matter, and had never even heard of it, until Arthur told his story. It was to Anna's feminine wit, that he was indebted for the discovery of the real sender.
"Had I known of it at the time, I should have guessed Mr. Roger Ulyett," she said. She was right. While many a one had misjudged that gentleman, and deemed him cynical and hard during his early residence at Little Cray, Anna had done justice to the true nobility of his character under all circumstances, except in his manifest devotion to herself. In after days, when Arthur's elder sister, Hilda, was Mrs. Roger Ulyett, and mistress of Fairhill, Roger was brought, not to own that he was the sender of that Christmas-box, but to say—
"If I had done such a thing, I should only have paid a very small instalment of the debt I owed your father. Had he taken advantage of a certain opening offered to him, I should not stand where I do to-day. He neglected his opportunities—I secured them; hence my fortune. It matters less now which of us got it, for it is all in the family."