_I_ was a prodigal, a black sheep, a wanderer. One on whom Fate had
written on his forehead at his birth, "unstable as water, thou shalt not
excel," and yet, I had the madness, (you may call it so,) to dream of
regeneration and happiness!
How many a time had I not pictured to myself the home of my longing.
Nothing grand or great occurred to me--my old ambitions were dead.
I only wished for a little domain of my own, where some _one_ would look
up to me, at all events, watching for my coming, and receiving me with
gladness "in sorrow or in rest." A kingdom of affection, where no angry
word should be ever spoken or heard; where peace and love would reign,
no matter what befell!
It was a dream:--you are right. I thought so, now, often enough, far
away from England and all that I held dear; and, unsuccessful as I
always had been, as I always seemed doomed to be!
Happiness for me? What a very ridiculous idea! I was a lunatic. I
should "laugh with myself," as poor Parole d'Honneur used to say!
I knew what sundry kindly-natured persons would say, in the event of my
returning to England empty-handed, were I to lead the steadiest life
possible.--"Here is Frank Lorton back again like a bad penny!"--they
would sneer.--"Reformed from all his wild ways, eh? Really, Mrs
Grundy, you must not expect us to believe _that_! Can the leopard
change his spots?"--and so on; or else, kindly hint, that,--"when the
devil was sick, the devil a monk would be: when the devil got well, the
devil a monk was he."--Oh yes, I had little doubt what _their_
charitable judgment would be!
Still, the thought of these people's opinions did not oppress me much;
for I knew equally well that, should some freak of Fate endow me with
fame and fortune, they would be the first to receive me with open arms--
ignoring all my former social enormities.--Their tune would be slightly
different then!
It would be--"Dear me! how glad we are to see him back! You know, Mrs
Grundy, that you always said he would turn out well.--His little
fastnesses and Bohemian ways?--Pooh! we won't speak of those now:--only
the hot blood of youth, you know--signs of an ardent disposition--we all
have our faults;"--and so on.
No, I was not thinking much of "society's" opinion; but, of that of
others, whose good esteem I really valued. _They_ believed in me
still:--was I worthy of it?