"She returned to your father soon after you disappeared, and has only
lately come back to pay me another visit," he answered.
I confess I wished she had stayed at home. However, I had to face her,
though I felt very nervous about the interview.
"I don't think she will recognise you, and I won't tell her who you
are," he said, as I entered the house.
We went into the drawing-room, where we found Aunt Deb seated in a
high-backed chair.
"Here's a young gentleman come from the sea. He's come to dine with
us," said Mr Butterfield.
Aunt Deb rose from her seat, gave me a stiff bow, and sank down again on
her seat. "I have no affection for the sea, or generally for those
whose profession it is to sail upon it," she said, looking hard at me.
"There are exceptions to every rule, and I hope that this young
gentleman will show that he doesn't possess the objectionable manners
and customs of sailors."
"I trust you will not be mistaken in the favourable opinion you form of
me, Madam," I said, as stiffly as I could. "But I venture to think that
you are prejudiced against seafaring men. Let me assure you, however,
that there are many estimable persons among them, though there are some
as bad as any to be found on shore. You once had a nephew who went away
to sea. I hope that you don't class him among the bad ones."
"I class him among the very worst," she exclaimed. "He ran off without
leave, without wishing me, his kind aunt, farewell, or letting us know
where he had gone, or what had become of him. He made us all very
miserable, and broke his poor mother's heart."
"My mother dead!" I exclaimed. "Oh, don't say that, don't say that!
And I killed her."
"Who are you?" cried Aunt Deb, starting up and looking me in the face.
"Yes; I do believe that you are that graceless young monkey, Dick!"
"I am indeed your nephew, Dick. I am indeed heartily sorry for all I
have done, and shall never forgive myself if my conduct was the cause of
my mother's death. Did I not mistake what you said? Oh, Aunt Deb, do
tell me is she really dead?" and I grasped her hands and burst into
tears.
She was moved as I spoke more than I could have expected; and instead of
further upbraiding me, tried to soothe the anguish I felt. I was indeed
severely punished for my thoughtless conduct, to say the best of it.
Mr Butterfield spoke to me more kindly than I expected or deserved, and
when he again offered me a seat in his counting-house, and assured me
that he would endeavour to further my interests and raise me according
to my deserts, I thankfully accepted his proposal.
Before, however, commencing my career as a merchant, he allowed me to go
home and see my father, who, I need not say, received me according to
the dictates of his affectionate heart, without uttering a word of
blame. My brothers and sisters were never tired of hearing of my
adventures while I remained with them. On my mother's grave I promised
to do my duty to the best of my power in the new situation of life I was
about to occupy.
After my arrival at home I paid a visit to old Roger Riddle, and had the
satisfaction of telling him that Mark had become a steady fellow, and as
Captain Mason had promised to take him the next voyage in the "Falcon,"
and to continue his instructions in navigation, he had every prospect of
becoming an officer. Tom Trivett entered the navy, and having lost a
leg, became an out-pensioner of Greenwich Hospital. He used frequently
to come and see me in after years, and nothing pleased him so much as to
talk over the adventures of our early days, and to spin long yarns to my
children about those he subsequently went through. After a week's stay
at Sandgate, I returned to Liverpool, where I at once set to work in Mr
Butterfield's office, and have every reason to be thankful that I was
enabled to take my place on one of the high stools which I had formerly
looked upon with such intense disgust. By diligence and perseverance,
and strict attention to my duties, I gained my principal's good opinion,
and ultimately, on his death, I became the head of the firm.