“Perhaps you might not accede afterwards.”

“I pledge myself to it.”

“And I too,” said Lord Callonby, “if no unfair stratagem be resorted to towards my daughter.  If she only give her free and willing consent, I agree.”

“Then you must bid higher, uncle, ten thousand won’t do, for the bargain is well worth the money.”

“Name your price, boy, and keep your word.”

“Agreed then,” holding my uncle to his promise, “I pledge myself that his nephew shall be husband of Lady Jane Callonby, and now, my Lord, read Harry vice Guy in the contract, and I am certain my uncle is too faithful to his plighted word, and too true to his promise not to say it shall be.”

The suddenness of this rash declaration absolutely stunned them both, and then recovering at the same moment, their eyes met.

“Fairly caught, Guy” said Lord Callonby, “a bold stroke if it only succeeds.”

“And it shall, by G—­,” said my uncle, “Elton is yours, Harry, and with seven thousand a year, and my nephew to boot, Callonby won’t refuse you.”

There are moments in life in which conviction will follow a bold “coup de main,” that never would have ensued from the slow process of reasoning.  Luckily for me, this was one of those happy intervals.  Lord Callonby catching my uncle’s enthusiasm, seized me by the hand and said,

“With her consent, Lorrequer, you may count upon mine, and faith if truth must be told, I always preferred you to the other.”

What my uncle added, I waited not to listen to; but with one bound sprung from the room—­dashed up stairs to Lady Callonby’s drawing-room—­looked rapidly around to see if she were there, and then without paying the slightest attention to the questions of Lady Callonby and her younger daughter, was turning to leave the room, when my eye caught the flutter of a Cachmere shawl in the garden beneath.  In an instant the window was torn open—­I stood upon the sill, and though the fall was some twenty feet, with one spring I took it, and before the ladies had recovered from their first surprise at my unaccountable conduct, put the finishing stroke to their amazement, by throwing my arms around Lady Jane, and clasping her to my heart.

I cannot remember by what process I explained the change that had taken place in my fortunes.  I had some very vague recollection of vows of eternal love being mingled with praises of my worthy uncle, and the state of my affections and finances were jumbled up together, but still sufficiently intelligible to satisfy my beloved Jane—­that this time at least, I made love with something more than my own consent to support me.  Before we had walked half round the garden, she had promised to be mine; and Harry Lorrequer, who rose that morning with nothing but despair and darkness before him, was now the happiest of men.