“Why don’t you sit down and write the letter at once?”
Without answering, the Canon seated himself, and presently showed to Lady Sophia, for her approval, the following reply.
Dear Lord Stonehenge,
I have weighed your very considerate proposal most anxiously and have given full weight to what you urge. I fully appreciate the kind motive which offered me the opportunity of removing to a position both of leisure and of dignity. I am sure you will not think that I have lightly set aside the offer made me; but I am doubtful whether my health would stand the asperities of a Welsh climate. And I have to consider that a very great assistance to me in the performance of my present duties is derived from the complete knowledge of my work in London. I fear that I might find the distant and untried labours of St. Olphert’s less congenial. And I feel that without some very strong counter-balancing reason, it is not desirable that I should leave plans which I have begun, but scarcely matured, in the Metropolis.
Believe me to be, with very grateful thanks, dear Lord Stonehenge,
Your faithful and obedient servant,
Theodore Spratte
Lady Sophia smiled when she read that last sentence in which he wisely left himself an escape, whereby he might with dignity abandon London, if a bishopric in the future were offered to him. Obviously the comfortable hope had returned that in the end his merits would receive their just reward. She gave back the letter.
“I think it will do capitally,” she said. “Now, if I were you, I’d go out for a stroll.”
“So I will, Sophia,” he replied. “I shall never forget your encouragement. I confess I was very much cast down.”
Much to her surprise he kissed her affectionately, and then said: