"And we can't run the risk, after that nervous attack this morning, of subjecting Blanche to any further suspense. I have thought of my niece's interests throughout this business; and if I now change my mind, and decline to agitate her by more experiments, ending (quite possibly) in more failures, it is because I am thinking of her interests still. I have no other motive. However numerous my weaknesses may be, ambition to distinguish myself as a detective policeman is not one of them.
The case, from the police point of view, is by no means a lost case. I drop it, nevertheless, for Blanche's sake. Instead of encouraging her thoughts to dwell on this melancholy business, we must apply the remedy suggested by our medical friend."
"How is that to be done?" asked Arnold.
The sly twist of humor began to show itself in Sir Patrick's face.
"Has she nothing to think of in the future, which is a pleasanter subject of reflection than the loss of her friend?" he asked.
"You are interested, my young gentleman, in the remedy that is to cure Blanche. You are one of the drugs in the moral prescription.
Can you guess what it is?"
Arnold started to his feet, and brightened into a new being.
"Perhaps you object to be hurried?" said Sir Patrick.
"Object! If Blanche will only consent, I'll take her to church as soon as she comes down stairs!"
"Thank you!" said Sir Patrick, dryly. "Mr. Arnold Brinkworth, may you always be as ready to take Time by the forelock as you are now! Sit down again; and don't talk nonsense. It is just possible--if Blanche consents (as you say), and if we can hurry the lawyers--that you may be married in three weeks' or a month's time."
"What have the lawyers got to do with it?"
"My good fellow, this is not a marriage in a novel! This is the most unromantic affair of the sort that ever happened. Here are a young gentleman and a young lady, both rich people; both well matched in birth and character; one of age, and the other marrying with the full consent and approval of her guardian. What is the consequence of this purely prosaic state of things?
Lawyers and settlements, of course!"
"Come into the library, Sir Patrick; and I'll soon settle the settlements! A bit of paper, and a dip of ink. 'I hereby give every blessed farthing I have got in the world to my dear Blanche.' Sign that; stick a wafer on at the side; clap your finger on the wafer; 'I deliver this as my act and deed;' and there it is--done!"
"Is it, really? You are a born legislator. You create and codify your own system all in a breath. Moses-Justinian-Mahomet, give me your arm! There is one atom of sense in what you have just said.
'Come into the library'--is a suggestion worth attending to. Do you happen, among your other superfluities, to have such a thing as a lawyer about you?"
"I have got two. One in London, and one in Edinburgh."
"We will take the nearest of the two, because we are in a hurry.