"Matters have certainly gone too far," he said in his usual grave and sombre tones, "for either party to recede."
"Nobody wants it, I'm sure," replied old Jeeks.
"And I have no wish of the kind," returned my father.
"Then, if the young ones are agreed, I don't see what there is to forbid the bans," remarked Mr Jeeks.
"The sooner the better," returned the other; while, in a state of intense wonder, I looked at the speakers.
"What is the meaning of all this?" I asked Lucy Ashton, who had returned very sedulously to her knitting.
"The truth is this, Henry," said my father; "my friend and relative, Mr Jeeks, having lost his only son, has determined on making his eldest daughter Harriet, the young lady before you, the heiress of his house. By marrying her to you, the object of his ambition—the reunion, namely, of the divided portions of our ancestral estate—is gained; and as it appears you have no personal objection to the fair Harriet herself, I don't see why the addition of the Rayleigh manors should make her disagreeable."
A month settled every thing to the satisfaction of all parties. Mr Jeeks has settled himself in London; my father resides in Hartley Mead; and every day my wife and I go over to see the progress of the alterations and improvements we are making in the old house, which we are restoring to its original grandeur under the superintendence of Mr Barry.