HARRISON FINDS A FRIEND IN NEED.
"During my residence at school in York, my master was often visited by
a wealthy merchant who bore the same name with myself. This man was an
old bachelor, very eccentric, but universally esteemed as one of the
most benevolent of men. He was present at one of the school
examinations in which I took many prizes, and asking my name he found
out that he was related to my father, and bestowed upon me many marks
of favour, such as presenting me with useful books, and often asking me
over to his house to dine, or spend the evening.
"Flattered by his attentions to me, I had lost no opportunity of
increasing our friendship, and I determined to apply to him in my
present distress.
"I was a perfect novice in the art of letter-writing, never having
penned an epistle in my life, and after making several attempts with
which I was perfectly disgusted, I determined to walk over to the city
and make my application in person to Mr. Mornington.
"Without communicating my intentions to Alice, I carefully tied up a
change of linen in a silk handkerchief, and with the mighty sum of five
shillings in my pocket, commenced my pedestrian journey of thirty odd
miles.
"I started in the morning by day-break, and without meeting with any
particular adventures on the road, I arrived at six o'clock in the
evening, foot-sore and weary at the rich man's door. When there, my
heart, which had been as stout as a lion's on the road, failed me, and
I sat down upon the broad stone steps that led up to the house, sorely
depressed and uncertain what course to take.
"This I knew would not do: the night was coming on, and the rain, which
had threatened all day, now began to fall fast. Making a desperate
effort, I sprang up the steps, and gave a gentle knock, so gentle that
it was unheard; and unable to summon sufficient courage to repeat the
experiment, I resumed my seat until some more fortunate applicant
should seek admittance.
"Not many minutes elapsed before the quick loud rap of the postman
brought Mrs. Jolly, the housekeeper, to the door; and edging close to
him of the red jacket, I asked in a tremulous voice--'If Mr. Mornington
was at home?'
"'Why, dearee me, master Philip, is that you?' said the kind woman,
elevating her spectacles: 'who would have thought of seeing you
t'night?'
"'Who, indeed! But, my dear Mrs. Jolly, is Mr. Mornington disengaged,
and can I see him?'
"'He is t'home, and you can speak to him, but not just now. He's to his
dinner, and doan't like to be disturbed. But come this way, an I'll
tell him you are here.'
"'Who's that you are speaking to, Mrs. Jolly?' cried my worthy old
friend as we passed the dining-room door, through which the footmen
were carrying an excellent dinner to table.
"'Only Mr. Philip, sir.'
"'Mr. Philip!' and the next moment, the old man came out and grasped me
warmly by the hand. 'Why, lad, what brings you back to school so
soon--tired of play already, hey?'
"'No, sir. I fear play will soon tire of me. I am to go to school no
more.'
"'Sorry to hear that, Phil. Just the time when instruction would be of
the most service to you. You would learn more in the ensuing year, than
in all that have gone before it. Leave school! no, no, I must see you
the head boy in it yet.'
"'That was my ambition, sir. But you know I am only a poor orphan lad,
entirely dependent on the bounty of Sir Alexander Moncton. I have
offended this gentleman, and he will do no more for me; and I walked
from the Park to-day to ask your advice as to what course I had better
pursue, and in what way I am most likely to earn my own living.'
"The old gentleman looked grave.
"'Offended Sir Alexander? You must have acted very imprudently to do
that, and he so kind to you. Walked all the way from Moncton. Bless the
boy, how tired and hungry you must be! Sit down, young Philip
Mornington, and get your dinner with old Philip Mornington; and we will
talk over these matters by and by.'
"Gladly I accepted the dear old gentleman's hearty invitation. I had
not tasted food since early dawn, and was so outrageously hungry and
eat with such a right good will, that he often stopped and laughed
heartily at my voracity.
"'Well done, Philip! Don't be ashamed: hold in your plate for another
slice of beef. Thirty miles of hard walking at this season of the year,
may well give a boy of sixteen, strong and healthy like you, a good
appetite.'
"After the cloth was drawn, and the old gentleman had refreshed me with
a couple of glasses of excellent wine, obedient to his request I
related to him my adventure with Theophilus Moncton in the park, and
its unfortunate results.
"Instead of blaming me, the whole affair seemed greatly to amuse the
hearty old man. He fell back in his chair, and chuckled and laughed
until he declared that his sides ached.
"'And was it for punishing that arrogant puppy as he deserved, that Sir
Alexander cast you, my fine fellow, from his favour?'
"'He might have forgiven that. It was for refusing so positively his
commands, in not asking young Moncton's pardon.'
"'If you had obeyed him in this instance, Philip, you would have
forfeited my good opinion for ever, and would have deserved to have
been kicked by Sir Alexander's lackeys for your meanness. Don't look so
cast down, boy. I honour you for your self-respect and independence.
You have other friends besides Sir Alexander Moncton, who will not
forsake you for taking your own part like a man. You shall go to school
yet--ay, and become the head scholar in Dr. Trimmer's head class, and
finish your education at Oxford, or my name is not Philip Mornington.'
"How well did this excellent, warm-hearted, generous man perform his
promise; how ill I profited by the education he gave me, and the wealth
he bequeathed to me at his death, the subsequent portion of my history
will reveal.
"I went to school at the end of the vacation, but as a day-boarder; Mr.
Mornington, having told me to consider his house as my future home.
"A boy who came from our village to Dr. Trimmer's school, told me that
Sir Alexander's passion soon cooled, and he rode over to the Lodge a
week after I left, to inquire after his old pet, and was surprised and
exasperated to find the bird flown, and taken by the hand by a man for
whom he had a great personal antipathy; who had ever opposed him in
politics, and had twice carried an election against him.
"There was enough of revenge in my composition to feel glad that Sir
Alexander was annoyed at my good-fortune.
"The next year saw me at college, with a handsome allowance from my
generous patron, to enable me to establish my claims as a gentleman. I
will pass over the three years I spent at this splendid abode of
learning and science.
"The gratitude I felt for all Mr. Mornington had done for me, for a
long time restrained me from indulging in the wild excesses which
disgraced the conduct of most of the young men with whom I associated.
This reluctance, however, to do and countenance evil, gradually wore
off, and I became as wild and dissipated as my companions.
"I formed many agreeable acquaintances at college, but had only one who
really deserved the name of a friend. Kind, gentle and studious,
Cornelius Laurie (for so I shall call him) mingled very little with his
fellow students: his health being delicate, he spent most of his
leisure hours in walking, an exercise of which he was particularly
fond, and in which generally participated.
"His mild, intelligent countenance first won my regard. I sought his
acquaintance, found him easy of access, friendly and communicative, and
always anxious to oblige every one as far as lay in his power.
Commanding an excellent income, he was always ready to assist the
improvident who had expended theirs, and with such a disposition, you
may be certain that the calls upon his purse were by no means few. He
formed a strong attachment to me, and we usually spent most of our time
together.
"Cornelius invited me to pass the Christmas vacation with him in town.
When at home he resided with his aunt, a widow lady who had brought up
his only sister, who had been left an orphan at a very early age.
Charlotte Laurie was several years younger than her brother; and in
speaking of her he had always told me that she was a very pretty girl,
but I was not prepared to behold the beautiful and fascinating creature
to whom I was introduced.
"Charlotte Laurie was a child of nature, without display or
affectation; conscious of her great personal attractions only so far as
to render her more agreeable--for what beautiful woman was ever
ignorant of her charms? My pretty Lotty knew perfectly the power they
gave her over the restless and inconstant heart of man, but she did not
abuse it.
"My passions, Geoffrey, by nature, are as warm and impetuous as your
own, and they soon betrayed me into love; and I thought that the fair
girl to whom I had lost my heart was not insensible to the passion she
had inspired. But when I recalled my obscure parentage, of which
Cornelius was perfectly ignorant; and the uncertainty of my future
prospects, I felt that it would be dishonourable in me to advance my
suit to the young lady. To remain in the house and keep silent upon a
subject so important to my peace, I found would be impossible; and I
feigned a letter from Mr. Mornington, whom I called my uncle, requiring
my immediate presence in York.
"My departure caused great regret to the family. Cornelius
remonstrated; Mrs. H---- questioned the necessity of my journey;
Charlotte said nothing, but left the room in tears. Strongly tempted as
I was to stay, I remained firm to my original purpose, and bade adieu
to my amiable friends, without breathing a word even to Cornelius of my
attachment for his sister.
"On my way to York I called at my old home, and was received with the
most lively demonstrations of joy by Alice, whom I found a blooming
girl of fifteen. Old Dinah told me, as she scowled at my handsome dress
and improved appearance, 'That she supposed I was now too fine a
gentleman to call her grandmother, or Alice sister?'
"I assured her that my improved circumstances had not changed my heart,
nor made me ashamed of my old friends. Something, I fear, in my looks,
contradicted my words, for she turned from me with a scornful smile:
"'The world,' said she, 'was a good school for teaching people the art
of falsehood.'
"Her sarcasms made me very uncomfortable--for my conscience convicted
me of their truth--and turning to Alice I begged her to tell me the
news, for I was certain a great deal must have happened in the
neighbourhood during the four years I had been absent.
"'No,' said Alice; 'we go on much as usual. Sir Alexander and Margaret
are very kind to me, and I go every day up to the Hall. But she is Miss
Moncton now, and I am plain Alice Mornington. Mr. Theophilus is often
there; and he is so much improved, Philip, you would never know him. He
is no longer proud and disagreeable, but so affable and kind, and
always sees me safe home to the Lodge. People say that he is to marry
Miss Moncton; but I don't believe a word of it. He does not love her I
am certain; for he told me so a few days ago; and that he thought me a
thousand times handsomer than his cousin!'
"While Alice ran on thus, I kept my eyes fixed upon her beautiful face;
and from the heightening of her colour when speaking of Theophilus, I
was convinced that young as she was, she was not insensible to his
flattery. Anxious to warn her of her danger, I drew her arm through
mine, and we strolled together into the park.
"'Dear Alice,' said I, affectionately; 'do you love your brother as
well as you used to do in years long past?'
"'Philip, do you doubt my love?' she answered, reproachfully.
"'Not in the least, Alice. I know your heart to be warm and true; but
years make great changes. Four years have fled away since we met, and
you are nearly grown into a woman. Perhaps you will be angry with me if
I venture to give you a little brotherly advice.'
"'Not without you scold me too much.'
"'My lecture, Alice, I will confine to a few words. Do not listen, dear
child, to the flattering speeches of Theophilus Moncton. He means you
no good.'
"'How can you know that?' she said, quickly.
"'From the general character which the man bears. From my experience of
him when a boy. Avoid his company; he means to deceive you.'
"'Philip, you wrong him, indeed, you do!' she cried, with flashing
eyes. 'He never talks to me of love, he only seeks to be my friend. I
am too young to think of love. I don't know what being in love is--but
I do feel very grateful to one so much richer and better than me, and
who is heir to all these beautiful groves, and that fine old Hall,
taking such an interest in my welfare--particularly,' she added, with
great emphasis on her words, 'after he received such unworthy treatment
from a brother of mine.'
"'You surely do not mean what you say, Alice?'
"'I never say what I do not mean; and if you come back to us, Philip,
only to quarrel with us, you had better have stayed away.'
"For a few minutes I felt terribly annoyed; but when I recollected that
these words fell from the lips of a spoilt child, I restrained my
anger, in the hope of saving her from the ruin I feared might be
impending over her.
"'Alice, you are a simple, little girl; as such I forgive you. You are
not aware of the danger to which you are exposed. Young people are so
ignorant of the treachery of the world, and so confident in their own
strength to resist temptation, that they easily fall into the snares
laid for them by wicked and designing men. If you persist in receiving
the attentions of this man, who would consider it the utmost
degradation to make you his wife, I, as your brother and natural
protector, will consider it my duty to remove you from this place.'
"'I will not go!' she cried; stopping suddenly and looking me in the
face with an air of defiance. 'You are not your own master yet, much
less mine. I shall remain here with my dear, old grandmother, as long
as she lives. And let me tell you, Mr. Philip, I am as competent to
manage my own affairs as you are!'
"Could this be Alice?
"I looked at her, and looked again. The beauty of her countenance
seemed changed. I turned from her with a deep sigh.
"'Oh, Alice, sister Alice! I tremble for you; so young and so
self-willed. This is not my Alice, the happy, confiding Alice, who once
loved me so tenderly.'
"'I did love you, Philip, very much,' she replied, in a softened voice;
'but how was my love returned? You quarrelled with the only friend we
had in the world. One, too, who had done so much for us. To whose
bounty we were indebted for a home and daily bread; for the clothes we
wore, for the instruction we received--who treated us in every respect
more like his own children, than the poor recipients of his noble
generosity. You forgot all this. You insolently refused to apologize to
his young relative, the heir of his title and wealth, for having
grossly insulted him, and left your home and his protection without
bidding this dear sister, for whose well-doing you are so deeply
concerned, and who shared in your disgrace, one short farewell.'
"'Alice--Alice!'
"'Hush, sir; hear me to the end, if you please. You acted more
ungratefully still, when you sought employment from one of Sir
Alexander's bitterest enemies; and never wrote a single line either to
your injured patron or to us. Was this love? Young as I am, Philip
Mornington, I could not have been guilty of such baseness. I despise
your conduct; and advice comes very ill from a person who could be
guilty of such.'
"She turned haughtily away; and I, Geoffrey, I stood overwhelmed with
confusion and remorse. I had never seen my conduct in this light
before. I had all along imagined myself the injured party, and looked
upon Sir Alexander as an unreasonable persecutor. But I felt at that
moment, as I stood humbled before that proud girl, that I had not acted
right--that some concession was due on my part to the man from whom I
had received so many benefits; and but for very shame I would have
sought his presence, acknowledged my error, and entreated his pardon.
"Oh, why does this stubborn pride so often stand between us and our
best intentions. I let the moment pass, and my heart remained true to
its stern determination, not to yield one inch of what I falsely termed
independence. My reverie was dispelled by Alice. She took my hand
kindly.
"'You look grave, Philip. I have put these serious thoughts into your
head, and you feel sorry for the past. My anger is all gone. I forgive
you from my very heart. So give me a kiss, and let us be friends; but
no more lectures if you please for the future. I will not stand a
scolding--not even from you. You need not fear that I shall disgrace
you: I am too proud to place myself in the power of any one. I like,
yes, I love Theophilus Moncton, but he will never make a fool of me, or
any one else. But--hush--here is Miss Moncton.'
"The blood crimsoned my face as a sudden turning in the woodland path,
brought me within a few paces of one whom at that moment I would gladly
have shunned. To retreat was impossible. I raised my hat, and with, her
usual frankness, Margaret held out her hand.
"I pressed it respectfully between my own without venturing to raise my
eyes to her face. She perceived my confusion, and doubtless defined the
cause.
"'You have been a sad truant, Philip. But you are welcome home. I, for
one, rejoice to see my dear foster-brother again.'
"'Is that possible?' I stammered out--'Dear Miss Moncton, I am only too
happy to be allowed to plead for myself--I feel that I have sinned
against my good and generous benefactor; that this kindness on your
part, is wholly undeserved. What shall I do to regain your good
opinion.'
"'Say nothing at all about it, Geoffrey. It was a boyish fault, and my
father has often repented that he treated it so seriously. For my own
part, I do not blame you for thrashing Theophilus; had I been provoked
in the same manner, and a lad of your age, I would have done it myself.
My quarrel with you, is for leaving the Park, and deserting us all,
before a reconciliation could take place. You knew that my father's
anger was like dew upon the grass, evaporated by the first sunbeam, and
that we loved you dearly--so that your conduct appears inexcusable and
heartless.'
"'Oh, do not say that, Miss Moncton. What I did was perfectly
impulsive, without thought or premeditation. I could not imagine that I
was in the wrong, and Sir Alexander's conduct appeared to me cruel and
unjust.'
"'Come with me to the Hall, Mr. Mornington, and I will plead your case
to this cruel tyrant. My eloquence with papa is quite irresistible; and
he, poor dear, is more ready to forgive, than you are to ask
forgiveness.'
"This was said, with one of her bewitching smiles, which lighted up
like a passing sunbeam her calm, pale face.
"'You are too good, Miss Moncton. I would gladly avail myself of your
invitation, but I must proceed on my journey to York immediately. I
hope, however, soon to visit Moncton again; when I will, with Sir
Alexander's permission, explain my conduct, and ask his pardon.'
"'I hate procrastination in these matters, which pertain to the heart
and conscience,' said Margaret. 'My motto, when prompted by either, to
perform an act of duty, is--_now_; when we seek forgiveness from God,
or from a friend, we should never defer it to the future, for the
opportunity once neglected may never again be ours.'
"This was said with some severity. A sort of mental cowardice kept me
back and hindered me effectually from profiting by her advice. Just
then, I felt it was out of my power to meet Sir Alexander. I had not
courage to enter his presence in my present mood.
"'Alice,' said Margaret, turning from me with a disappointed air, 'what
has kept _you_ so long away from the Hall?'
"'I grow too proud to visit my rich friends,' returned Alice, in a tone
between sarcasm and raillery.
"'There is only one species of pride, that I tolerate,' said Margaret,
calmly--'the pride of worth. That pride which enables a good man to
struggle successfully against the arrogance of the world.'
"I turned to the speaker with admiration. Had she been born a peasant,
Margaret Moncton would have possessed the dignity of a lady, and the
little lecture she thought fit to bestow upon my beautiful wayward
sister, was dictated by the same noble spirit.
"'We should never be proud, Alice, of the gifts of nature, or fortune,
which depend upon no merit of our own. Beauty and wealth have their due
influence in the world, where their value is greatly overrated; but
they add little in reality to the possessor. Deprived of both, persons
of little moral worth, would relapse into their original
insignificance; while those, who improve the talents entrusted to their
care by Providence, possess qualities which defy the power of change.
Such persons can alone afford to be proud, yet these of all others make
the least display and think most humbly of themselves.'
"This was said playfully, but Alice did not at all relish the reproof;
which, though, disregarded by her, made a deep impression upon me."