'
"'I must be at Tattersall's on Monday, uncle; there is a horse I must
have for next season. Pray, uncle, may I ask when you are likely to want
me?'
"'Let me see--this is May--about July, I should think.'
"'July, uncle! 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.
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