uick.
But he was stopped from further speculation for the moment by a knock at
the door. The postman entered with two letters, for one of which, as it
was registered, John had to sign. When he had tipped the postman and was
alone again, he put his registered letter on the dressing-table (with a
view to disciplining curiosity and exercising patience, possibly) and
turned his attention to the other. In a handsome, high old hand, that
somehow reminded him of the writer's voice, it ran as follows:--
"DEAR JOHN,
"I was heart-broken not to see you when I drove over to say
good-bye this afternoon, but chance favoured me at least to the
extent of letting me see your miller's daughter, and you may
believe that I was glad of an opportunity to inspect her at close
quarters. My dear boy, she is no more a miller's daughter than you
are. Her beauty--there's _race_ in it. Her manner and carriage,
her voice, accent, her way of dressing, (I'd give a sovereign for
the name of her dressmaker), the fineness of her skin, her hair,
everything--there's race in 'em all, race and consciousness of
race, pride, dignity, distinction. These things don't come to pass
in a generation. I'm surprised at your lack of perspicacity. And
those blue eyes of yours look so sharp, too. But perhaps your wish
was father to your thought. You felt (well, and so to some extent
did I) that it would be more _romantic_. She's probably a very
great swell indeed, and I expect the Frau What's-her-name she's
staying with will turn out to be her old governess or nurse or
something. When those Austrians _can_ show quarterings, (of course
you must bar recent creations--they're generally named Cohen), they
can show them to some effect. They think nothing of thirty-two. All
of which, _au fond_, rather rejoices me, for if she really had been
a miller's daughter, it would have seemed a good deal like throwing
yourself away, and who knows what your rusty, crusty old uncle B.
might have said? I've long had a rod in pickle for _him_, and
t'other day I applied it. _Attendez_.
"Don't forget the pig you purchased--so gallantly and confidingly.
I would not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments--your
pig will gobble 'em up. You should by this have received a
communication from my solicitors. Remember, you have pledged your
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