Walkinshaw found his uncle alone, who, after some slight inquiries,
relative to unimportant matters of business, said to him,--
‘I have been desirous to see you, because I am anxious to make
some family arrangements, to which, though I do not anticipate any
objection on your part, as they will be highly advantageous to your
interests, it is still proper that we should clearly understand each
other respecting. It is unnecessary to inform you, that, by the
disinheritance of your father, I came to the family estate, which, in
the common course of nature, might have been yours--and you are quite
aware, that, from the time it became necessary to cognosce your uncle,
I have uniformly done more for your mother’s family than could be
claimed or was expected of me.’
‘I am sensible of all that, sir,’ replied Walkinshaw, ‘and I hope there
is nothing which you can reasonably expect me to do, that I shall not
feel pleasure in performing.’
His uncle was not quite satisfied with this; the firmness with which
it was uttered, and the self-reservation which it implied--were not
propitious to his wishes, but he resumed,--
‘In the course of a short time, you will naturally be looking to me for
some establishment in business, and certainly if you conduct yourself
as you have hitherto done, it is but right that I should do something
for you--much, however, will depend, as to the extent of what I may
do, on the disposition with which you fall in with my views. Now, what
I wish particularly to say to you is, that having but one child, and
my circumstances enabling me to retire from the active management of
the house, it is in my power to resign a considerable share in your
favour--and this it is my wish to do in the course of two or three
years; if’--and he paused, looking his nephew steadily in the face.
‘I trust,’ said Walkinshaw, ‘it can be coupled with no condition that
will prevent me from availing myself of your great liberality.’
His uncle was still more damped by this than by the former observation,
and he replied peevishly,--
‘I think, young man, considering your destitute circumstances, you
might be a little more grateful for my friendship. It is but a cold
return to suppose I would subject you to any condition that you would
not gladly agree to.’
This, though hastily conceived, was not so sharply expressed as to have
occasioned any particular sensation; but the train of Walkinshaw’s
reflections, with his suspicion of the object for which he was that
evening invited to the country, made him feel it acutely, and his blood
mounted at the allusion to his poverty. Still, without petulance, but
in an emphatic manner, he replied,--
‘I have considered your friendship always as disinterested, and as such
I have felt and cherished the sense of gratitude which it naturally
inspired; but I frankly confess, that, had I any reason to believe
it was less so than I hope it is, I doubt I should be unable to feel
exactly as I have hitherto felt.’
‘And in the name of goodness!’ exclaimed his uncle, at once surprised
and apprehensive; ‘what reason have you to suppose that I was not
actuated by my regard for you as my nephew?’
‘I have never had any, nor have I said so,’ replied Walkinshaw; ‘but
you seem to suspect that I may not be so agreeable to some purpose you
intend as the obligations you have laid me under, perhaps, entitle you
to expect.’
‘The purpose I intend,’ said the uncle, ‘is the strongest proof that I
can give you of my affection. It is nothing less than founded on a hope
that you will so demean yourself, as to give me the pleasure, in due
time, of calling you by a dearer name than nephew.’
Notwithstanding all the preparations which Walkinshaw had made to hear
the proposal with firmness, it overcame him like a thunder-clap--and he
sat some time looking quickly from side to side, and unable to answer.
‘You do not speak,’ said his uncle, and he added, softly and
inquisitively, ‘Is there any cause to make you averse to Robina?--I
trust I may say to you, as a young man of discretion and good sense,
that there is no green and foolish affection which ought for a moment
to weigh with you against the advantages of a marriage with your
cousin--Were there nothing else held out to you, the very circumstance
of regaining so easily the patrimony, which your father had so
inconsiderately forfeited, should of itself be sufficient. But, besides
that, on the day you are married to Robina, it is my fixed intent to
resign the greatest part of my concern in the house to you, thereby
placing you at once in opulence.’
While he was thus earnestly speaking, Walkinshaw recovered his
self-possession; and being averse to give a disagreeable answer, he
said, that he could not but duly estimate, to the fullest extent, all
the advantages which the connexion would insure; ‘But,’ said he, ‘have
you spoken to Robina herself?’
‘No,’ replied his uncle, with a smile of satisfaction, anticipating
from the question something like a disposition to acquiesce in his
views. ‘No; I leave that to you--that’s your part. You now know my
wishes; and I trust and hope you are sensible that few proposals could
be made to you so likely to promote your best interests.’
Walkinshaw saw the difficulties of his situation. He could no longer
equivocate with them. It was impossible, he felt, to say that he would
speak on the subject to Robina, without being guilty of duplicity
towards his uncle. Besides this, he conceived it would sully the honour
and purity of his affection for Ellen Frazer to allow himself to seek
any declaration of refusal from Robina, however certain of receiving
it. His uncle saw his perplexity, and said,--
‘This proposal seems to have very much disconcerted you--but I will
be plain; for, in a matter on which my heart is so much set, it is
prudent to be candid. I do not merely suspect, but have some reason to
believe, that you have formed a schoolboy attachment to Mrs. Eadie’s
young friend. Now, without any other remark on the subject, I will
only say, that, though Miss Frazer is a very fine girl, and of a most
respectable family, there is nothing in the circumstances of her
situation compared with those of your cousin, that would make any man
of sense hesitate between them.’
So thought Walkinshaw; for, in his opinion, the man of sense would at
once prefer Ellen.
‘However,’ continued his uncle,--‘I will not at present press this
matter further. I have opened my mind to you, and I make no doubt, that
you will soon see the wisdom and propriety of acceding to my wishes.’
Walkinshaw thought he would be acting unworthy of himself if he allowed
his uncle to entertain any hope of his compliance; and, accordingly, he
said, with some degree of agitation, but not so much as materially to
affect the force with which he expressed himself,--
‘I will not deny that your information with respect to Miss Frazer is
correct; and the state of our sentiments renders it impossible that I
should for a moment suffer you to expect I can ever look on Robina but
as my cousin.’
‘Well, well, James,’ interrupted his uncle,--‘I know all that; and I
calculated on hearing as much, and even more; but take time to reflect
on what I have proposed; and I shall be perfectly content to see the
result in your actions. So, let us go to your aunt’s room, and take tea
with her and Robina.’
‘Impossible!--never!’ exclaimed Walkinshaw, rising;--‘I cannot allow
you for a moment longer to continue in so fallacious an expectation.
My mind is made up; my decision was formed before I came here; and no
earthly consideration will induce me to forgo an affection that has
grown with my growth, and strengthened with my strength.’
His uncle laughed, and rubbed his hands, exceedingly amused at this
rhapsody, and said, with the most provoking coolness,--
‘I shall not increase your flame by stirring the fire--you are
still but a youth--and it is very natural that you should have a
love fit--all, therefore, that I mean to say at present is, take
time--consider--reflect on the fortune you may obtain, and contrast it
with the penury and dependence to which your father and mother exposed
themselves by the rash indulgence of an inconsiderate attachment.’
‘Sir,’ exclaimed Walkinshaw, fervently, ‘I was prepared for the
proposal you have made, and my determination with respect to it was
formed and settled before I came here.’
‘Indeed!’ said his uncle coldly; ‘and pray what is it?’
‘To quit Glasgow; to forgo all the pecuniary advantages that I may
derive from my connexion with you--if’--and he made a full stop and
looked his uncle severely in the face,--‘if,’ he resumed, ‘your
kindness was dictated with a view to this proposal.’
A short silence ensued, in which Walkinshaw still kept his eye brightly
and keenly fixed on his uncle’s face; but the Laird was too much a man
of the world not to be able to endure this scrutiny.
‘You are a strange fellow,’ he at last said, with a smile, that he
intended should be conciliatory; ‘but as I was prepared for a few
heroics I can forgive you.’
‘Forgive!’ cried the hot and indignant youth; ‘what have I done to
deserve such an insult? I thought your kindness merited my gratitude. I
felt towards you as a man should feel towards a great benefactor; but
now it would almost seem that you have in all your kindness but pursued
some sinister purpose. Why am I selected to be your instrument? Why are
my feelings and affections to be sacrificed on your sordid altars?’
He found his passion betraying him into irrational extravagance, and,
torn by the conflict within him, he covered his face with his hands,
and burst into tears.
‘This is absolute folly, James,’ said his uncle soberly.
‘It is not folly,’ was again his impassioned answer. ‘My words may be
foolish, but my feelings are at this moment wise. I cannot for ten
times all your fortune, told a hundred times, endure to think I may be
induced to barter my heart. It may be that I am ungrateful; if so, as I
can never feel otherwise upon the subject than I do, send me away, as
unworthy longer to share your favour; but worthy I shall nevertheless
be of something still better.’
‘Young man, you will be more reasonable to-morrow,’ said his uncle,
contemptuously, and immediately left the room. Walkinshaw at the same
moment also took his hat, and, rushing towards the door, quitted the
house; but in turning suddenly round the corner, he ran against Robina,
who, having some idea of the object of his visit, had been listening at
the window to their conversation.