It is clever of you!" Mr.Arranstoun felt that he was becoming rather too interested in his--_fiancee_ and time was passing.

Her family might discover where she was--or Henry might return; he must clinch matters finally.
"I think we must come to business details now," he said.

"Had you not better write a letter to Mr.Parsons that I could take, stating your wishes; and will you also write down upon another piece of paper all the details of your name, age--and so forth----" He now showed her his writing-table and gave her paper and pens to choose from.
She sat down gravely, and put her hands to her head as one thinking hard.

Then she began rapidly to write--while Mr.Arranstoun watched her from the hearth-rug, to where he had retired.
She evidently wrote out the statistics required first, and then began her letter.

And at last she turned a rogue's face with a perplexed frown on it, while she bit her pen.
"How do you spell indigenous, please ?" He started forward.
"'Indigenous' ?--what a grand word!--i-n-d-i-g-e-n-o-u-s." "One has to be grand when writing business letters," she told him, condescendingly, and then finished her missive.
"There--that will do! Now listen!" She got up and stood with the sheet in her hand, and read off the remarkable document without worrying much about stops or commas.
"Dear Mr.Parsons: "Papa said I could marry who I wanted to provided that he was decent, so please give your written consent to the _grand seigneur_ who brings this.