Spare me--I cannot marry in the dog-days. No, hang it! not
July."

'"Well, William, perhaps, as you must come down once or twice to see
the property--Miss Percival, I should say--it may be too soon--suppose
we put it off till October?"

'"October--I shall be down at Melton."

'"Pray, sir, may I then inquire what portion of the year is not, with
you, _dog_-days?"

'"Why, uncle, next April, now--I think that would do."

'"Next April! Eleven months, and a winter between. Suppose Miss Percival
was to take a cold and die."

'"I should be excessively obliged to her," thought William.

'"No, no!" continued Mr. Ponsonby: "there is nothing certain in this
world, William."

'"Well then, uncle, suppose we arrange it for the first _hard frost_."

'"We have had no hard frosts lately, William. We may wait for years. The
sooner it is over the better. Go back to town, buy your horse, and then
come down here, my dear William, to oblige your uncle--never mind the
dog-days."

'"Well, sir, if I am to make a sacrifice, it shall not be done by
halves; out of respect for you I will even marry in July, without any
regard to the thermometer."

'"You are a good boy, William. Do you want a cheque?"

'"I have had one to-day," thought William, and was almost at fault. "I
shall be most thankful, sir--they sell horseflesh by the ounce
nowadays."

'"And you pay in pounds. There, William."

'"Thank you, sir, I'm all obedience; and I'll keep my word, even if
there should be a comet. I'll go and buy the horse, and then I shall be
ready to take the ring-fence as soon as you please."

'"Yes, and you'll get over it cleverly, I've no doubt. Five thousand
acres, William, and--a pretty wife!"

'"Have you any further commands, uncle?" said William, depositing the
cheque in his pocket-book.

'"None, my dear boy; are you going?"

'"Yes, sir; I dine at the Clarendon."

'"Well, then, good-bye. Make my compliments and excuses to your friend
Seagrove. You will come on Tuesday or Wednesday."

'Thus was concluded the marriage between William Ponsonby and Emily
Percival, and the junction of the two estates, which formed together
the great desideratum--_five thousand acres in a ring-fence_.'

Mr. Seagrove finished, and he looked round for approbation.

'Very good indeed, Seagrove,' said his lordship; 'you must take a glass
of wine after that.'

'I would not give much for Miss Percival's chance of happiness,'
observed the elder Miss Ossulto