“Are you happy?” he asked, taking her small brown hand that lay clasped with the other on her lap.
“I am too frightened to be happy--yet,” she replied softly, with a shy lift of her eyes.
“I don’t quite understand what has happened. Half an hour ago I was a poor little singer--and now--”
“You are my affianced wife,” said the Canon, with grave promptness.
“That’s what I can’t realise. Everything seems topsy-turvy. Oh, it _is_ your wish, Canon Chisely, isn’t it? You are so good and wise, you wouldn’t let me do anything that was not right?”
“Always trust to me for your happiness, Yvonne, and all will be well,” answered the Canon.
Presently she rose, gave him her hand with simple dignity.
“I must go and think it over by myself. You will let me? Another time I will stay with you as long as you want me.”
The Canon led her to the door, kissed her hand, bending low over it in an old-fashioned way, and bowed her out of the room. Then he rang for the servant and sent a message to Mrs. Winstanley. He was a man of prompt execution.
In the interview that followed, the Canon came off triumphant. He parried his cousin’s thrusts of satire with a solicitude for her own welfare that was not free from irony. If she had not so openly showed him her distaste for the marriage, he might have displayed some sympathy for her in the loss of _prestige_ that she was sustaining as lady ruler of the Rectory. As matters stood, he considered she had forfeited it by her caprice. Besides, he had shrewdly determined that there should not be a triple dominion in his house.
“I hope she will extend your sphere of usefulness, Everard, as a wife should,” said Mrs. Winstanley. “But she is inexperienced in these matters. You will not be hard upon her.”
“I am only hard on those who disregard my authority. Then it is duty and not severity. Have you ever found me a harsh taskmaster, Emmeline?”
“Certainly not. I could compare my wife with no other woman. It would be in all respects wrong.”
“Well,” she replied, bidding him adieu, “I hope that you will be happy.”
“My dear Emmeline,” said the Canon, “I have been humbly conscious for years that my happiness has always been one of your chief considerations.”
From Mrs. Winstanley’s he proceeded at once to Lady Santyre’s, where he received congratulations and luncheon. He left with the comfortable certainty that all Fulminster would ring with the news of his engagement during the course of the afternoon. His announcement was as public as if he had proclaimed it from the pulpit. And Fulminster did ring as he had expected--not that it was unprepared, for the Canon’s attentions to Madame Latour had been a subject of universal speculation. Murmurings arose in certain quarters. The neighbourhood abounded in the aristocratic fair unwedded, and the Canon was highly eligible. One of the aggrieved declared that all the Chiselys were eccentric, and instanced the unfortunate Stephen.