"Here they come," said Mrs. Parsons. "Mother," said James, "Mary has something to tell you." "I haven't anything of the sort!" cried Mary, blushing and laughing. "Jamie has something to tell you." "Well, the fact is, I've asked Mary to marry me and she's said she would." XIX James was vastly relieved. His people's obvious delight, Mary's quiet happiness, were very grateful to him, and if he laughed at himself a little for feeling so virtuous, he could not help thoroughly enjoying the pleasure he had given. He was willing to acknowledge now that his conscience had been uneasy after the rupture of his engagement: although he had assured himself so vehemently that reason was upon his side, the common disapproval, and the influence of all his bringing-up, had affected him in his own despite. "When shall we get married, Mary?" he asked, when the four of them were sitting together in the garden. "Quickly!" cried Colonel Parsons. "Well, shall we say in a month, or six weeks?" "D'you think you'll be strong enough?" replied Mary, looking affectionately at him. And then, blushing a little: "I can get ready very soon." The night before, she had gone home and taken out the trousseau which with tears had been put away. She smoothed out the things, unfolded them, and carefully folded them up. Never in her life had she possessed such dainty linen. Mary cried a while with pleasure to think that she could begin again to collect her little store. No one knew what agony it had been to write to the shops at Tunbridge Wells countermanding her orders, and now she looked forward with quiet delight to buying all that remained to get. Finally, it was decided that the wedding should take place at the beginning of October. Mrs. Parsons wrote to her brother, who answered that he had expected the event all along, being certain that his conversation with James would eventually bear fruit. He was happy to be able to congratulate himself on the issue of his diplomacy; it was wonderful how easily all difficulties were settled, if one took them from the point of view of a man of the world. Mrs. Jackson likewise flattered herself that the renewed engagement was due to her intervention. "I saw he was paying attention to what I said," she told her husband. "I knew all he wanted was a good, straight talking to." "I am sorry for poor Dryland," said the Vicar. "Yes, I think we ought to do our best to console him. Don't you think he might go away for a month, Archibald?" Mr. Dryland came to tea, and the Vicar's wife surrounded him with little attentions. She put an extra lump of sugar in his tea, and cut him even a larger piece of seed-cake than usual. "Of course you've heard, Mr. Dryland?" she said, solemnly. "Are you referring to Miss Clibborn's engagement to Captain Parsons?" he asked, with a gloomy face. "Bad news travels fast." "You have all our sympathies. We did everything we could for you."