Nothing was said by Captain Aylmer as to any proposed period for their marriage; but that was only natural. It was not probable that any man would name a day till he knew whether or not he was accepted. Indeed, Clara, on thinking over the whole affair, was now disposed to find fault rather with herself than with her lover, and forgetting his coldness and formality at Perivale, remembered only the fact of his offer to her, and his assurance now received that he had intended to make it before the scene which had taken place between him and his aunt. She did find fault with herself, telling herself that she had quarrelled with him without sufficient cause;--and the eager, loving candour of her letter to him was attributable to those self-accusations.
"Papa," she said, after the postman had gone away from Belton, so that there might be no possibility of any recall of her letter, "I have something to tell you which I hope will give you pleasure."
"It isn't often that I hear anything of that kind," said he.
"But I think that this will give you pleasure. I do indeed. I am going to be married."
"Going to be married, papa. That is, if I have your leave. Of course any offer of that kind that I have accepted is subject to your approval."
"It began at Perivale, and I could not tell you then. You do not ask me who is to be my husband."
"Poor Will! No; it is not Will. It is Frederic Aylmer. I think you would prefer him as a son-in-law even to my cousin Will."
"No I shouldn't. Why should I prefer a man whom I don't even know, who lives in London, and who will take you away, so that I shall never see you again?"
"Dear papa;--don't speak of it in that way. I thought you would be glad to know that I was to be so--so--so happy!"
"But why is it to be done this way,--of a sudden? Why didn't he come to me? Will came to me the very first thing."
"He couldn't come all the way to Belton very well;--particularly as he does not know you."
"Oh, papa, don't make difficulties. Of course that was different. He was here when he first thought of it. And even then he didn't think very much about it."
"Well;--yes. I don't know how that might be." And Clara almost laughed as she felt the difficulties into which she was creeping. "Dear Will. He is much better as a cousin than as a husband."
