“Here the bright diamond and the ruby take
The rose’s form; and the deep amethyst
The violet; while the modest pearl blends
Its moonlight lustre with the sunny gem.”
While all were taking their places at the breakfast table, Lady Susan was
so obliging in making room for every one, that at last she found herself
seated next to our hero. But, alas! Julia was on his other side. To do
him justice, however, he helped her ladyship abundantly, too abundantly
indeed to many things she did not want: he even had the unparalleled
generosity to offer her, and that with a sudden start of recollection,
his cup of tea when she had one of her own; he also turned and begged her
pardon, more than once, when it was not to him she had addressed herself.
“You see,” whispered Lord Borrowdale, who, for lack of room near Julia,
had seated himself on the other side of Lady Susan, “poor Montgomery is
so bewildered by the radiance of your ladyship’s smiles, that he actually
does not know what he is doing.”
Lady Susan sighed and smiled, and tried to be of his lordship’s opinion.
The following plan, which had been in agitation ever since the arrival
of the Arandales at Lodore House, was now finally arranged. In short,
Mrs. Montgomery, after many objections, at length consented to her
grand-daughters accompanying their uncle’s family, back to Ayrshire,
for about a month. Captain Montgomery, and Mr. St. Aubin were invited
to join the party. The Euphrasia being still in dock, our hero quickly
assented to a proposal, by which he was to enjoy a continuance of Julia’s
society.
“Julia!” exclaimed Frances, on receiving a message from a servant, “our
poor little friend, Gotterimo! Oh, may we have him in, grandmamma? It
will be so amusing!” “And I dare say every body will buy something from
him,” added Julia.
“He is, I believe, a deserving poor creature,” said Mrs. Montgomery.
“Shall we gratify the girls, and admit him?” she added, turning to Lady
Arandale.
Lady Arandale, of course, assented, and orders were given accordingly. A
young man, of a neat diminutive figure, now entered. His eyes sparkled
with hope at the sight of so large a company; while, at the same time, a
kind of bashfulness flushed his cheek and flurried his manner. The girls
saw this, and felt for him.
“Here, will you open the boxes on this table, Mr. Gotterimo?” said Julia;
and while he was doing so, she observed, that when the first flush,
called up by his entrance, went down, the poor creature’s countenance
assumed an anxious and saddened expression.
“I hope,” she added, “you had good success in Bath?” “Yes, madam,”
he answered, with some hesitation; then added, “it was first year,
madam—every ting must have begin, madam.” This led to further enquiries,
and a dismal tale of having been robbed by his partner, of the savings of
his whole life.
Our breakfast party felt much commiseration for poor Gotterimo; and
commenced making purchases as a means of affording, at least, temporary
assistance. The sale of his goods raised the spirits of our poor little
friend, who soon became all activity in displaying, and eloquence in
recommending each shining article in his sparkling collection. A chain
was admired by Edmund for its resemblance to a cable, and was purchased
by Julia. Lord Arandale’s eye accidentally fell on a musical box.
Gotterimo set the air playing immediately.
“Is it not rather slow in the time?” said the Earl.
“Oh, de slow time, it do make listen!”
“I should prefer something less dismal,” said his lordship.
“So ’tis, sir! De quick time, it do make dance!” and, while he spoke,
with nimble fingers he was winding up a curious seal which now began to
execute a more lively air.
“That is pretty!” said the Earl. Gotterimo proffered the seal to his
lordship.
“The articulation of the box is superior,” observed Lady Susan.
“Dis be more superior,” cried Gotterimo, presenting the box to her
ladyship. “The seal is the prettier thing,” persisted Lord Arandale. “If
you vil please, sir, bote be de best,” pursued Gotterimo, offering both.
Here every one laughed. The little man looked round him enquiringly,
then, rallying, said—“So ’tis, sir, de seal be de best beautiful! de box
be de best music!” and he added, smiling sheepishly, “every ting be de
best fen it bring Gotterimo de money!” This was logic not to be resisted,
and the Earl took both, together with watches, seals, and chains, for
three or four absent nephews; while Lady Arandale selected handsome
presents for as many absent nieces. Thus went on a brisk sale of poor
Gotterimo’s goods, when Mrs. Montgomery, happening to cast her eye over
the contents of one of the jewel boxes, which lay open, her attention was
fixed by a curious mosaic ring: she caught it up and examined it with a
much deeper interest than it seemed to merit. Gotterimo, believing she
was admiring the workmanship of the article, silently undid the clasps of
a small morocco case, and placed it open before her. It contained the set
of mosaics to which the ring belonged: her countenance changed; and Julia
remarked that movement of her head which always indicated strong emotion.
Mrs. Montgomery turned the centre medallion. On the back part of the gold
rim was engraved Maria, her sister’s name, and the mark by which they
used to distinguish between their necklaces. She turned deadly pale, and
was only prevented sinking to the ground by the united support of Julia,
Edmund, and Frances.
The moment Mrs. Montgomery recovered, she called for Gotterimo, and
enquired, anxiously, where, when, and how those ornaments had come into
his possession. “Dem be second hand, Madam,” he replied; “I have buy dem
of a gentleman in London.” The name Gotterimo could not immediately call
to mind. He had seen the person in question but once. In reply to the
question of what sort of looking gentleman the person was, he said, “he
vos tall and good look; look angry fen he no please, and have de loud
voice.” Our little jeweller, however, offered to make “enquiry” of a
friend of his, to whom, he said, “de same gentleman have sell de grand
old plate, and de great many picture, and de big box of de old fassion
moneys.” The purchase of the necklace had been lately made; but all that
Gotterimo knew further of the person who had sold it to him was, “that he
have rob and cheat so many tradge people; and have hire de big house in
⸺ Place, in London, to make dem tink him grand gentleman;” but that when
he, Gotterimo, last left town, “de house vas empty, vid de bill ‘To Let,
Furnish,’ on de vindow.” All now remembered to have read a recent account
in the papers of the said swindler and his associates, with their assumed
names.
The mosaics were purchased, and Gotterimo, after receiving considerable
charitable donations, dismissed; while Mrs. Montgomery’s agitation
of spirits was, at length, in some degree composed, by Mr. Jackson’s
reminding her that the necklace must have been parted with many years
ago, by those of whom she thought; and that, its having since passed
into the hands of a knot of swindlers, was by no means a remarkable
circumstance.