‘I am greatly pleased,’ said Algy. ‘Bless the dear creature! She dresses in parchment, Faith, my angel: if you prick her, she bleeds ink; if she talks, it is Acts of Parliament; and when she coughs, it is a special pleading. Her complexion is yellow, her eyes are invisible, she has gone bald, and she is five-and-fifty. What good fortune! What blessed luck!’ Then he went on with his letter.
‘Of course I hastened to accept. She will be raised to the Peerage whenever a vacancy occurs on the Bench. I confess, my dear son, that this match, so much beyond our reasonable expectations, so much higher than our fortune and position entitled us to hope for on your behalf—a match in all respects, and from every point of view, so advantageous—pleases your father and myself extremely. The disparity of age is not greater than many young men have to encounter, and it is proved by numberless examples to be no bar to real happiness. I say this because, in the society of Lord Chester, you may have imbibed—although I rely upon your religious principles—some of those pernicious doctrines which are, falsely perhaps, attributed to him. However, we hope to see you return to us as you left us, submissive, docile, and obedient. And your friendship with Lord Chester may ultimately prove of the greatest advantage to you,’ ‘I hope it will,’ said Jack, laughing, as he read this passage. ‘Your father begs me to add that Frederica, who is only a few years older than himself, is in reality, though somewhat imperious and brusque in manner, a most kind-hearted woman, and likely to prove the most affectionate and indulgent of wives.’
‘What do you think of that, brothers mine?’ he asked, folding up the letter. They looked at each other.
‘Oh, begin at once!’ cried Faith, clasping her hands. ‘They will marry you all, the horrid creatures, before you have struck the first blow. Do you hear, Algy? begin at once.’
‘It is serious,’ said Jack. ‘If pity is any good to you, Algy, you have it. A crabbed old lawyer—a soured, peevish, argumentative Q.C.’ He shuddered. ‘It is already Vacation; she is sure to want to push on the marriage without delay. What are we to do?’
He looked at Lord Chester for a reply.
‘My own case,’ said the young Chief, ‘comes before the House in October. The first blow, so far as I am concerned, must be struck before then.’
‘For Heaven’s sake,’ cried Algy, ‘strike it before this old lawyer swallows me up! I feel like a piece of parchment already. A little delay I can manage; a toothache, a cold, a sore throat—anything would do—but that would only delay the thing a week.’
The little party was broken up. Jack Kennion alone remained. He had obtained permission to accompany Lord Chester to Chester Towers, his country seat. The Professor and the girls were to go too—an arrangement sanctioned by Lady Boltons, happily ordered abroad to drink the waters.
Three weeks passed. Letter after letter came from Algy. His fiancée was pressing on the marriage; he had resorted to every expedient to postpone it; he knew not what he could do next; the day had to be named; wedding presents were coming in; and the learned lawyer proved more odious than could be imagined.