“I know that she is steadfast,” said he.

“That she is, and honest, and warm hearted; and—and Oh! Sir John, I am so happy that it is all to be made right, and nice, and comfortable. It would have been very sad if she hadn’t gone with the money; would it not?”

“I should not have taken the money—not all of it.”

“And she would not have taken any. She would not have taken a penny of it, though we need not mind that now; need we? But there is one thing I want to say; you must not think I am interfering.”

“I shan’t think that after all that you have done.”

“I want her to be married from here. It would be quite proper; wouldn’t it? Mr Mackenzie is a little particular about the grouse, because there is to be a large party at Incharrow; but up to the 10th of August you and she should fix any day you like.”

Sir John showed by his countenance that he was somewhat taken aback. The 10th of August, and here they were far advanced into June! When he had left home this morning he had not fully made up his mind whether he meant to marry his cousin or not; and now, within a few hours, he was being confined to weeks and days! Mrs Mackenzie saw what was passing in his mind; but she was not a woman to be driven easily from her purpose.

“You see,” she said, “there is so much to think of. What is Margaret to do, if we leave her in London when we go down? And it would really be better for her to be married from her cousin’s house; it would, indeed. Lady Ball would like it better—I’m sure she would—than if she were to be living alone in the town in lodgings. There is always a way of doing things; isn’t there? And Walter’s sisters, her own cousins, could be her bridesmaids, you know.”

Sir John said that he would think about it.

“I haven’t spoken to her, of course,” said Mrs Mackenzie; “but I shall now.”

Sir John, as he went eastwards into the city, did think about it; and before he had reached his own house that evening, he had brought himself to regard Mrs Mackenzie’s scheme in a favourable light. He was not blind to the advantage of taking his wife from a house in Cavendish Square, instead of from lodgings in Arundel Street; and he was aware that his mother would not be blind to that advantage either. He did not hope to be able to reconcile her to his marriage at once; and perhaps he entertained some faint idea that for the first six months of his new married life the Cedars would be quite as pleasant without his mother as with her; but a final reconciliation would be more easy if he and his wife had the Mackenzies of Incharrow to back them, than it could be without such influence. And as for the London gossip of the thing, the finale to the romance of the Lion and the Lamb, it would be sure to come sooner or later. Let them have their odious joke and have done with it!