The Parson joined Mr. Richard Avenel on the road. It was a fine night,
and the moon clear and shining.
"So, then," said Mr. Richard thoughtfully, "poor Jane, who was always
the drudge of the family, has contrived to bring up her son well; and
the boy is really what you say, eh?--could make a figure at college?"
"I am sure of it," said the Parson, hooking himself on to the arm which
Mr. Avenel proffered.
"I should like to see him," said Richard. "Has he any manner? Is he
genteel? or a mere country lout?"
"Indeed he speaks with so much propriety, and has so much modest
dignity, I might say, about him, that there's many a rich gentleman who
would be proud of such a son."
"It is odd," observed Richard, "what difference there is in families.
There's Jane now--who can't read nor write, and was just fit to be a
workman's wife--had not a thought above her station; and when I think of
my poor sister Nora--you would not believe it, sir, but _she_ was the
most elegant creature in the world--yes, even as a child (she was but a
child when I went off to America). And often, as I was getting on in
life, often I used to say to myself, 'My little Nora shall be a lady
after all.' Poor thing--but she died young."
Richard's voice grew husky.
The Parson kindly pressed the arm on which he leaned, and said, after a
pause,
"Nothing refines us like education, sir. I believe your sister Nora had
received much instruction, and had the talents to profit by it; it is
the same with your nephew."
"I'll see him," said Richard, stamping his foot firmly on the ground,
"and if I like him, I'll be as good as a father to him. Look you, Mr.
---- what's your name, sir?"
"Dale."
"Mr. Dale, look you, I'm a single man. Perhaps I may marry some day;
perhaps I shan't. I'm not going to throw myself away. If I can get a
lady of quality, why--but that's neither here nor there; meanwhile, I
should be glad of a nephew whom I need not be ashamed of. You see, sir,
I'm a new man, the builder of my own fortunes; and, though I have picked
up a little education--I don't well know how--as I scrambled on, still,
now I come back to the old country I'm well aware that I am not exactly
a match for those d----d aristocrats; don't show so well in a
drawing-room as I could wish. I could be a Parliament man if I liked,
but I might make a goose of myself; so, all things considered, if I can
get a sort of junior partner to do the polite work, and show off the
goods, I think the house of Avenel & Co. might become a pretty
considerable honor to the Britishers. You understand me, sir?"
"Oh, very well," answered Mr. Dale smiling, though rather gravely.
"Now," continued the New Man, "I'm not ashamed to have risen in life by
my own merits; and I don't disguise what I've been. And, when I'm in my
own grand house, I'm fond of saying, 'I landed at New York with L10 in
my purse, and here I am!' But it would not do to have the old folks with
me. People take you with all your faults, if you're rich; but they won't
swallow your family into the bargain. So if I don't have my own father
and mother, whom I love dearly, and should like to see sitting at table,
with my servants behind their chairs, I could still less have sister
Jane. I recollect her very well, and she can't have got genteeler as
she's grown older. Therefore I beg you'll not set her on coming after
me; it won't do by any manner of means. Don't say a word about me to
her. But send the boy down here to his grandfather, and I'll see him
quietly, you understand."
"Yes, but it will be hard to separate her from the boy."
"Stuff! all boys are separated from their parents when they go into the
world. So that's settled! Now, just tell me. I know the old folks always
snubbed Jane--that is, mother did. My poor dear father never snubbed any
of us. Perhaps mother has not behaved altogether well to Jane. But we
must not blame her for that; you see this is how it happened. There were
a good many of us, while father and mother kept shop in the High-street,
so we were all to be provided for anyhow; and Jane, being very useful
and handy at work, got a place when she was a little girl, and had no
time for learning. Afterward my father made a lucky hit, in getting my
Lord Lansmere's custom after an election, in which he did a great deal
for the Blues (for he was a famous electioneerer, my poor father). My
Lady stood godmother to Nora; and then most of my brothers and sisters
died off, and father retired from business; and when he took Jane from
service, she was so common-like that mother could not help contrasting
her with Nora. You see Jane was their child when they were poor little
shop-people, with their heads scarce above water; and Nora was their
child when they were well off, and had retired from trade, and lived
genteel: so that makes a great difference. And mother did not quite look
on her as her own child. But it was Jane's own fault; for mother would
have made it up with her if she had married the son of our neighbor the
great linendraper, as she might have done; but she would take Mark
Fairfield, a common carpenter. Parents like best those of their children
who succeed best in life. Natural. Why, they did not care for me till I
came back the man I am. But to return to Jane: I'm afraid they've
neglected her. How is she off?"
"She earns her livelihood, and is poor, but contented."
"Ah, just be good enough to give her this," (and Richard took a
bank-note of L50 from his pocket-book). "You can say the old folks sent
it to her; or that it is a present from Dick, without telling her he had
come back from America."
"My dear sir," said the Parson, "I am more and more thankful to have
made your acquaintance. This is a very liberal gift of yours; but your
best plan will be to send it through your mother. For, though I don't
want to betray any confidence you place in me, I should not know what to
answer if Mrs. Fairfield began to question me about her brother. I never
had but one secret to keep, and I hope I shall never have another. A
secret is very like a lie!"
"You had a secret, then," said Richard, as he took back the bank-note.
He had learned, perhaps, in America, to be a very inquisitive man. He
added point-blank, "Pray what was it?"
"Why, what it would not be if I told you," said the Parson, with a
forced laugh--"a secret!"
"Well, I guess we're in a land of liberty--do as you like. Now, I dare
say you think me a very odd fellow to come out of my shell to you in
this off-hand way. But I liked the look of you, even when we were at the
inn together. And just now I was uncommonly pleased to find that,
though you are a Parson, you don't want to keep a man's nose down to a
shop-board, if he has any thing in him. You're not one of the
aristocrats--"
"Indeed," said the Parson, with imprudent warmth, "it is not the
character of the aristocracy of this country to keep people down. They
make way among themselves for any man, whatever his birth, who has the
talent and energy to aspire to their level. That's the especial boast of
the British constitution, sir!"
"Oh, you think so, do you?" said Mr. Richard, looking sourly at the
Parson. "I dare say those are the opinions in which you have brought up
the lad. Just keep him yourself, and let the aristocracy provide for
him!"
The Parson's generous and patriotic warmth evaporated at once, at this
sudden inlet of cold air into the conversation. He perceived that he had
made a terrible blunder; and, as it was not his business at that moment
to vindicate the British constitution, but to serve Leonard Fairfield,
he abandoned the cause of the aristocracy with the most poltroon and
scandalous abruptness. Catching at the arm which Mr. Avenel had
withdrawn from him, he exclaimed:
"Indeed, sir, you are mistaken; I have never attempted to influence your
nephew's political opinions. On the contrary, if, at his age, he can be
said to have formed any opinion, I am greatly afraid--that is, I think
his opinions are by no means sound--that is, constitutional. I mean, I
mean--" And the poor Parson, anxious to select a word that would not
offend his listener, stopped short in lamentable confusion of idea.
Mr. Avenel enjoyed his distress for a moment, with a saturnine smile,
and then said,
"Well, I calculate he's a Radical. Natural enough, if he has not got a
sixpence to lose--all come right by-and-by. I'm not a Radical--at least
not a destructive--much too clever a man for that, I hope. But I wish to
see things very different from what they are. Don't fancy that I want
the common people, who've got nothing, to pretend to dictate to their
betters, because I hate to see a parcel of fellows, who are called lords
and squires, trying to rule the roast. I think, sir, that it is men like
me who ought to be at the top of the tree! and that's the long and short
of it. What do you say?"
"I've not the least objection," said the crest-fallen Parson, basely.
But, to do him justice, I must add that he did not the least know what
he was saying!