Mr. Dale had been more than a quarter of an hour conversing with Mrs.
Avenel, and had seemingly made little progress in the object of his
diplomatic mission, for now, slowly drawing on his gloves, he said,--
"I grieve to think, Mrs. Avenel, that you should have so hardened your
heart--yes, you must pardon me,--it is my vocation to speak stern truths.
You cannot say that I have not kept faith with you, but I must now invite
you to remember that I specially reserved to myself the right of
exercising a discretion to act as I judged best for the child's interest
on any future occasion; and it was upon this understanding that you gave
me the promise, which you would now evade, of providing for him when he
came to manhood."
"I say I will provide for him. I say that you may 'prentice him in any
distant town, and by and by we will stock a shop for him. What would you
have more, sir, from folks like us, who have kept shop ourselves? It
ain't reasonable what you ask, sir."
"My dear friend," said the parson, "what I ask of you at present is but
to see him, to receive him kindly, to listen to his conversation, to
judge for yourselves. We can have but a common object,--that your
grandson should succeed in life, and do you credit. Now, I doubt very
much whether we can effect this by making him a small shopkeeper."
"And has Jane Fairfield, who married a common carpenter, brought him up
to despise small shopkeepers?" exclaimed Mrs. Avenel, angrily.
"Heaven forbid! Some of the first men in England have been the sons of
small shopkeepers. But is it a crime in them, or in their parents, if
their talents have lifted them into such rank or renown as the haughtiest
duke might envy? England were not England if a man must rest where his
father began."
"Good!" said, or rather grunted, an approving voice, but neither Mrs.
Avenel nor the parson heard it.
"All very fine," said Mrs. Avenel, bluntly. "But to send a boy like that
to the University--where's the money to come from?"
"My dear Mrs. Avenel," said the parson, coaxingly, "the cost need not be
great at a small college at Cambridge; and if you will pay half the
expense, I will pay the other half. I have no children of my own, and
can afford it."
"That's very handsome in you, sir," said Mrs. Avenel, somewhat touched,
yet still not graciously. "But the money is not the only point."
"Once at Cambridge," continued Mr. Dale, speaking rapidly, "at Cambridge,
where the studies are mathematical,--that is, of a nature for which he
has shown so great an aptitude,--and I have no doubt he will distinguish
himself; if he does, he will obtain, on leaving, what is called a
fellowship,--that is, a collegiate dignity accompanied by an income on
which he could maintain himself until he made his way in life. Come,
Mrs. Avenel, you are well off; you have no relations nearer to you in
want of your aid. Your son, I hear, has been very fortunate."
"Sir," said--Mrs. Avenel, interrupting the parson, "it is not because my
son Richard is an honour to us, and is a good son, and has made his
fortin, that we are to rob him of what we have to leave, and give it to a
boy whom we know nothing about, and who, in spite of what you say, can't
bring upon us any credit at all."
"Why? I don't see that."
"Why!" exclaimed Mrs. Avenel, fiercely,--"why! you, know why. No, I
don't want him to rise in life: I don't want folks to be speiring and
asking about him. I think it is a very wicked thing to have put fine
notions in his head, and I am sure my daughter Fairfield could not have
done it herself. And now, to ask me to rob Richard, and bring out a
great boy--who's been a gardener or ploughman, or suchlike--to disgrace a
gentleman who keeps his carriage, as my son Richard does--I would have
you to know, sir. No! I won't do it, and there's an end of the matter."
During the last two or three minutes, and just before that approving
"good" had responded to the parson's popular sentiment, a door
communicating with an inner room had been gently opened, and stood ajar;
but this incident neither party had even noticed. But now the door was
thrown boldly open, and the traveller whom the parson had met at the inn
walked up to Mr. Dale, and said, "No! that's not the end of the matter.
You say the boy's a 'cute, clever lad?"
"Richard, have you been listening?" exclaimed Mrs. Avenel.
"Well, I guess, yes,--the last few minutes."
"And what have you heard?"
"Why, that this reverend gentleman thinks so highly of my sister
Fairfield's boy that he offers to pay half of his keep at college. Sir,
I'm very much obliged to you, and there's my hand if you'll take it."
The parson jumped up, overjoyed, and, with a triumphant glance towards
Mrs. Avenel, shook hands heartily with Mr. Richard.
"Now," said the latter, "just put on your hat, sir, and take a stroll
with me, and we'll discuss the thing businesslike. Women don't
understand business: never talk to women on business."
With these words, Mr. Richard drew out a cigar-case, selected a cigar,
which he applied to the candle, and walked into the hall.
Mrs. Avenel caught hold of the parson. "Sir, you'll be on your guard
with Richard. Remember your promise."
"He does not know all, then?"
"He? No! And you see he did not overhear more than what he says. I'm
sure you're a gentleman, and won't go against your word."
"My word was conditional; but I will promise you never to break the
silence without more reason than I think there is here for it. Indeed,
Mr. Richard Avenel seems to save all necessity for that."
"Are you coming, sir?" cried Richard, as he opened the street-door.