Thank you for your patience! Be forewarned, it is a long chapter, but there are many important developments!

The drive leading to the house was long, about a half-mile in length. After fifteen minutes of walking, Perry climbed the porch steps, opened the screen door, and knocked. He had visited countless houses and met countless people in his capacity as an attorney, but this time it was different. His own happiness depended on this visit.

After about thirty seconds, he heard the lock turn. The door swung open. He found himself looking at a middle-aged woman wearing a cotton dress and an apron. Perry Mason only needed to take one look at her eyes to be absolutely certain that he had just met Della's mother. They were sad, and identical to her daughter's.

"May I help you?" Mrs. Street asked, surveying him and his tailored suit with puzzlement.

"Yes, I believe you can," Perry Mason said with a small, friendly smile. "My car stopped just outside your driveway, and I was wondering whether I could come in to use your telephone."

"Yes, of course," the lady of the house said, stepping aside to allow him in.

"Thank you."

He followed Mrs. Street into the living room, where they found a middle-aged gentleman seated on the couch, his lips in a frown. Bustling around the room was an elderly lady; she was busy folding dozens of dinner napkins. There was a pile of tablecloths nearby, and plenty of white and gold decorations scattered about. These two were Della's father and grandmother. Near the window, pacing about, smoking, was a man whom Perry Mason was instantly certain had to be Miles Warner. He was a lanky man, with a face which was not handsome, and whose countenance was further marred by a habitual sneer. He wore a stained flannel shirt without any shame. He turned around as soon as Mrs. Street entered the room, and surveyed Perry with an arrogant air.

"Who is this?" he demanded of his soon-to-be-mother-in-law.

"This gentleman's car stalled up the road, and he just wanted to use our telephone," Mrs. Street said in a frightened tone.

"Very well then," Miles Warner snapped. "Show him where it is."

"Over here, sir," Mrs. Street gestured to the wall across the room.

"Thank you." He walked over to it and dialed Paul Drake's number. "Hello? Is this the tow truck company?" He stopped and listened. "In that case, could you find someone to send a tow truck to Baskerville? My car stopped. I think the sign said 'Redmond Road'. Thank you." Perry Mason hung up the phone. "You do not know how I appreciate your allowing me the use of your telephone, madam."

"It is nothing, sir. Will they be long?"

"I am sure that it will not be too long." The attorney responded. "I do apologize for having disturbed you; it is quite clear that you are preparing for a party."

"Not at all, sir. We apologize that the house is such a mess. We are just trying to put the finishing touches on some things – our daughter is being married tomorrow. We are hoping to set up all the tables in the barn tonight, as that is where the reception will be."

"Nothing like a nice country wedding," Perry Mason commented noncommittally.

At this point, Miles Warner proved his bad manners by bluntly interrupting the conversation.

"You look familiar. Have we met before?"

Perry Mason schooled his features into the poker face which he had honed during his years in the courtroom, and met his rival's eyes.

"I do not believe so."

"I know I have seen your face before." Suddenly, Miles Warner's eyes widened, his jaw dropped open, and he stepped forward excitedly. "I know! You are Perry Mason, the famous defense attorney from Los Angeles!"

"I do not know how famous you believe me to be, but I am a defense attorney, and I am from Los Angeles."

At this, Mr. and Mrs. Street and Della's elderly grandmother did a double take, stared at him, and a murmur of admiration and awe ran through the room.

"Mr. Mason, it is an honor," Mr. Street said, standing out of deference. "In Baskerville we follow every case of yours. We always say – we don't know who is guilty, but it definitely is not the one that Perry Mason is defending!"

"You flatter me, sir," Perry Mason said, with a nod to the older gentleman.

Miles Warner, unable to bear someone else holding a conversation with their honored guest, immediately said,

"I knew there was something familiar about you! Well, this is my lucky week! Not only am I getting married, I also get to meet Mr. Perry Mason!" He walked across the room and stuck out his hand. It took every ounce of the lawyer's inner strength to stretch out his own and shake it. He kept his composure and focused on utilizing the opening which Miles Warner had provided. "So you are the prospective bridegroom?" The man in front of him nodded. "And where is the bride?"

"In the kitchen fixing my supper."

"Already?" Perry Mason forced himself to infuse a lighthearted, joking tone into his words. "You are not letting her have one last evening off before her wedding?"

"Of course not. Give a woman an inch and soon she'll be off shopping instead of feeding you. Put a leash on her early and keep it tight, I say!"

For the rest of his life, Miles Warner never knew how close he came to being struck by Perry Mason's capable fist at this juncture. The defense lawyer could barely contain his rage. He spoke of Della being leashed, like a dog? No, this man would not marry Della. He would stop that wedding if he had to stand up in the church and object more strenuously than he ever had in court.

"Will you join us for a cup of coffee while you wait for the tow truck, Mr. Mason?" Della's grandmother piped up in a sweet voice, providing a much-needed distraction.

"Yes, I would, if it is not too much of an inconvenience."

"Of course it is not," Mr. Warner said. "What are fiancées for?" Raising his voice, he screamed at the top of his lungs, "Della, get in here and bring the coffee!"

Perry braced himself. This was the moment which he had both long for and dreaded. In a few seconds, Della would appear in the living room. What would be her reaction to finding him there?

He heard her well-known and beloved footsteps. He heard the creak of the kitchen door. And then she appeared. Her attention was absorbed in carrying a tray filled with coffee cups and a pitcher, and so he had a moment to observe her before she noticed him.

His heart broke at the sight. Paul's description had not done her despair justice. She seemed to have lost ten pounds in the last week. She wore a plain green cotton dress rather than the tailored clothes that she had always donned in Los Angeles. And her face! It reminded him of his clients, particularly the young and innocent ones, who had been mercilessly thrown into a high-security prison. There were large dark circles under her eyes. They, and the rest of her countenance were expressionless. He still considered her the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but he could barely fathom what she had suffered.

As she progressed across the room, she lifted her eyes from the tray and glanced around the room. The instant she saw Perry, she froze. Her face went completely white. Perry could see dozens of thoughts flash through her mind, and then her hands began to tremble so violently that all the china on the tray began to cling and clatter.

"Stop gawking and put the coffee on the table," Miles Warner's voice snapped. "Can't you do anything right?"

Perry tore his gaze away from Della to shoot Miles Warner a look of warning which that man completely missed. How dare he address her so? He looked back at Della. At her fiancé's order, she had slowly begun to walk towards the table. Reaching it, she put down the tray. Her movements were hesitant, and it was clear that she did not know how to act. Perry understood her dilemma at once. For years, she had worked to keep her life in Los Angeles a secret, and now he, her former employer was standing in her parents' house. He was formulating his next move when Miles stalked over to her.

"Mr. Mason is a very important man in Los Angeles," he informed his intended in a condescending tone, "so take care and make sure you pour his coffee properly."

"That will not be difficult to do," Perry Mason quickly said. "Black, please, no sugar or cream," he said to Della, as if she had not poured thousands of cups of coffee for him.

She nodded, kept her eyes on the floor and her face expressionless, but he thought that he detected a slight relaxation in her shoulders. He knew that she was intelligent enough to decipher that for the moment, he was choosing not to publicly acknowledge their longstanding acquaintance.

She poured the coffee into a cup, but Miles could not bear that she should have the distinction of actually handing it to Perry Mason, and did that important task himself. Della remained at the other end of the room and quickly poured cups of coffee for the others, still looking ill at ease. At Mrs. Street's request, Perry seated himself on an armchair at one end of the living room. Directly across from him, Miles Warner sat down on a loveseat, and made Della sit beside him. On Perry's left, Della's mother, father, and grandmother sat on the couch.

The time had come to act.

Perry Mason's plan had crystalized. He would stroke Miles's ego by addressing him directly, while letting Della know everything which she ought to know.

"Well, Mr. Warner," he said, "if I did not know the story of how your engagement came about, I would congratulate you on winning as lovely a bride as Miss Street." Seeing confusion cloud his rival's face, he continued, "You do not need to look so surprised. I understand that it is practically impossible to sit down at the lunch counter at Baskerville's drugstore without hearing the story of Mr. Clark's and Mr. Street's agreement. I have to say that you certainly used the law to your benefit in a very clever way. You would best many a lawyer with your sly tactics."

"Why, thank you," Miles Warner said, puffing up with pride.

"There was just one possible problem in your plan, one which I do not believe you fully considered," Perry said, putting down his coffee cup on the table.

"And what was that?" the man's face took on a haughty contour.

"The possibility of another suitor."

Miles Warner threw back his head and barked out a laugh. Besides him, Della positively started and briefly stared at Perry, before dropping her gaze back down to the rug.

"I assure you that I did not have to worry about that. Della has been doing nothing but working for the last several years. She had no time to meet anyone else."

"I do not know how it is in Baskerville, but I can assure you that in the city working constantly is not an impediment to meeting someone to love and marry."

"Oh really?" Miles sneered.

"Yes. I can explain to you how that could come about. Let us assume for a moment that for the past several years, Miss Street worked for a single, unattached young man in Los Angeles. From the first day she worked for him, her employer was impressed by her efficiency and beauty. As time went on and they spent more and more time together in the workplace and grew more familiar with each other, he found that she was also witty, and compassionate, and wise." The lawyer glanced at Della, and saw that her eyes were still cast down, but he was certain that she was attending to every word he said. "He found himself wishing to spend even more time with her, so he began to find excuses to do so: every time they achieved a goal they had been working towards he would take her out for a celebratory meal, and when they worked late he would drive her home. His heart warmed every time she brought him a cup of coffee, or put her hand on his shoulder. Smiles came much more easily to his face when she was in the room. When he came to his lonely apartment at night, and he would count the hours until he could be at work again, with her." Miles looked positively bored by this long hypothetical case, but Perry pressed on. "Now, let us assume that the same man had a few faults, one of them being that he foolishly avoided telling Miss Street of his affection. He simply felt he could not live without her, either professionally or personally, if she did not reciprocate his feelings and felt impelled to resign because of his confession." Della tentatively raised her eyes to meet his. "But, should that reticent employer find out that she was to be married to another, he would straightaway realize what a mistake he had made. He would drop all his work, seek her out, and coming to her house, beg her:" Perry leaned forward in his armchair, not breaking his gaze away from Della's for an instant, "Marry me, Della. Marry me!"

Miles Warner instantly confirmed himself a dunce by chuckling and saying,

"You have told a pretty fairy tale, Mr. Mason, but I don't see any long-lost suitors seeking Della's hand in marriage here! She'll be mine tomorrow."

The lady next to him, however, was not so hasty to dismiss their guest's words. Her hands shaking, in a voice strangled by emotion, she spoke for the first time since she had come into the room.

"If a former employer of mine should come here and say such things, I am sure that it would be out of…pity and gallantry…not out of actual longstanding love and desire to marry me."

"Exactly!" Miles Warner snorted.

Perry gravely shook his head.

"No, he would not be lying." He again captured Della's eyes with his piercing gaze. "Not to you. Not about this."

Perry Mason held his breath. He had said it all. He now held still and allowed Della to study his face. He knew that Della was the only person on earth who could decipher whether he was bluffing or being serious in court when he cross-examined a witness or spoke to Mr. Berger. He prayed that the skill would not fail her now. She needed to know that his words were the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth!

He saw a flicker of realization deep in her pupils. And then, the expressionless mask melted away, and within two seconds, transformed back into the face of the Della he knew and loved. She only managed one word before her throat completely closed from emotion.

"Perry!" she cried out, in a tone he never forgot.

He stood; so did she. Both executed a few quick steps to the center of the room, where she flung herself into his outstretched, waiting arms. He caught her and clasped her tightly, as if he would never let her go. Throwing her arms around his neck, she burrowed her face into his shoulder and burst into profound sobs.

Holding her trembling form securely to his steady one, Perry Mason thrilled as he realized that her reaction was not one of a woman who had been caught in a bad business deal, and at the last minute been given a better offer, which she gratefully accepted. No, this was the reaction of a woman ardently in love, who had just heard a long-awaited and despaired-of marriage proposal from the man who held her heart. Della loved him!

Transported by happiness, he lifted her head from his tailored coat lapel and cupped both her cheeks with his palms. Looking at her tear-stained, beloved face, he breathed,

"Oh Della. My Della."

Her only response to his verbal caress was redoubled sobs. Although he hated to see her weep, he realized that she had to have a good cry after repressing a myriad of feelings for weeks. He thus tucked her back into her arms, and held her for many minutes as she cried. He was faintly aware that Miles Warner was watching them with his bottom jaw completely slack, clearly unable to understand what he was witnessing. On his left sat Della's entire family, their eyes almost staring out of their heads at the sight of their timid daughter in the arms of a famous Los Angeles celebrity, demonstrating emotion for the first time since she had come home and informed them in a spiritless voice that she was going to marry Miles Warner. It did not matter. He would deal with Miles and explain to them all later, but at the moment nothing mattered but making sure that the woman in his arms was alright.

At last, Della's sobs became less frequent, and her head rested quietly upon his shoulder. Then, she finally took one step back and looked at him, her pupils shining with joy and love.

Perry drew his handkerchief from inside his jacket and tenderly wiped away the wet streaks on Della's cheeks. Then he led her to the armchair he had occupied, for it was the seat in room furthest away from Miles.

That man at this juncture remembered that he had a tongue, and he used it to lash out,

"Della, how dare you throw yourself at Mr. Mason like that? Where are your manners? He is too important a man to be bothered by your tears!"

Perry Mason turned and faced his onetime rival.

"Mr. Warner, may I ask why you chose to blame Della for the scene you witnessed just now? It would be apparent to anyone with sense that I provoked the feelings which caused her to weep upon my shoulder. And as I am the man in the situation, you ought to reprove me for embracing your fiancée as I did."

Miles became speechless, but instead of being penitent, began to glare at Della.

The defense attorney walked slowly, deliberately across the carpet as if he were approaching a witness stand.

"Shall I tell you?" Perry Mason said, in the tone that caused even hardened murderers to quail. "Shall I tell you why you persist in accusing Della of precipitating that scene?" He stopped a few inches from Miles and bore into him with his eyes. "Because you are the worst kind of coward. You refuse to engage with someone who is your equal, but since you need to insult someone to increase your own importance, you abuse a vulnerable woman whom you believe is dependent on you for her family's livelihood." Miles paled, at last realizing that he was experiencing the displeasure of a man of consequence, and one who had broad shoulders and looked as if he could take care of himself in a fight, no less! "As you are clearly having difficulty understanding what happened just now, allow me to explain it to you. As you know, I am a lawyer in Los Angeles. What you do not know is that for the last three years Della Street has been my confidential secretary. That means all of my most important papers have passed through her hands. She has been my right hand and my confidante." Miles stared at the woman across the room in disbelief. He discovered that she was looking back at him with an air of self-assurance which he had never noticed before. "I found myself falling in love with Della, and can now say that the feeling is mutual. As a result, Della will be married tomorrow to satisfy the terms of Mr. Street's ludicrous agreement with your cousin Mr. Clark, but I will be the one marrying her." Miles opened and closed his mouth several times, but produced not one sound. "Be forewarned, from this moment forward Della and her family are under my protection. If I ever hear, or even suspect, that you are attempting to harm them in any way, I will make sure that you are prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. If you get any brilliant ideas tonight about interrupting the wedding, you would do well not to act upon them, because the entire town is filled with operatives from the Paul Drake Detective Agency, and I have warned them to track your every move. And now, I do not believe that Mr. and Mrs. Street would have any objection if you should wish to show yourself out."

Miles Warner shakily stood. Nearly stumbling from shock, he found his way to the door and disappeared into the night.

Mr. Street also struggled to his feet.

"Mr. Mason," he said hesitantly, respectfully, "is it possible that…am I to understand that a man of your position wishes to marry our Della?"

"Yes." Was the unequivocal answer. "I could not be happy without her."

Della's grandmother clapped her hands.

"Oh, Praise the Lord! Now Della won't have to marry that terrible Miles!"

Mrs. Street, too, broke out in a wide smile.

"What good fortune, Mr. Mason, that your car broke down! If you had not come here tonight, tomorrow Della would have been Mrs. Warner."

"With all due respect, Mrs. Street, I never said that my car broke down," the Los Angeles lawyer said with a sly smile. "I said that it had stopped."

A peal of Della's laughter, the first that she had uttered in weeks, reverberated throughout the living room.

"Let me guess," she said, looking amused, as they all turned to look at her, "it stopped because you parked it and turned off the engine?"

"You know me too well," Perry said, smiling at her. "But I would not have it any other way." His heart melted as he looked at her. She would be his wife!

"I know you wouldn't," Della answered, standing up. "I need some fresh air. Come, Perry," she said, holding out her hand.

He immediately understood that she wanted to be alone with him. He turned to the others, who, despite everything they had just seen, still seemed shocked at hearing their daughter address a prominent attorney so boldly and familiarly. Clearly, they would need time to get used to the new status quo.

"Excuse us, will you?"

He walked over to Della, and wrapped her hand in his larger, warm one. She smiled, and they walked out into the moonlight, giving her family a chance to recover themselves.

I hope you enjoyed that! The next chapter will feature Della telling Perry her side of the story as they have their first heart-to-heart together as a couple!