Chapter LXXVI
I renew old ties of friendship, and seek new ones of love—Obliged to take my father to task once more—He receives his lesson with proper obedience.
I took the carriage the next day, and drove to Lord Windermear's. He was at home, and I gave my name to the servant as Mr De Benyon. It was the first time that I had made use of my own name. His lordship was alone when I entered. He bowed, as if not recognising me, and waved his hand to a chair.
"My lord, I have given my true name, and you treat me as a perfect stranger. I will mention my former name, and I trust you will honour me with a recognition. I was Japhet Newland."
"My dear Mr Newland, you must accept my apology; but it is so long since we met, and I did not expect to see you again."
"I thought, my lord, that Mr Masterton had informed you of what had taken place."
"No; I have just come from a visit to my sisters in Westmoreland, and have received no letters from him."
"I have, my lord, at last succeeded in finding out the object of my mad search, as you were truly pleased to call it, in the Honourable General De Benyon, lately arrived from the East Indies."
"Where his services are well known," added his lordship. "Mr De Benyon, I congratulate you with all my heart. When you refused my offers of assistance, and left us all in that mad way, I certainly despaired of ever seeing you again. I am glad that you re-appear under such fortunate auspices. Has your father any family?"
"None, my lord, but myself; and my mother died in the East Indies."
"Then I presume, from what I know at the Board of Control, that you may now safely be introduced as a young gentleman of large fortune; allow me at least to assist your father in placing you in your proper sphere in society. Where is your father?"
"At present, my lord, he is staying at the Adelphi hotel, confined to his room by an accident, but I trust that in a few days he will be able to come out."
"Will you offer my congratulations to him, and tell him, that if he will allow me, I will have the honour of paying my respects to him. Will you dine with me on Monday next?"
I returned my thanks, accepted the invitation, and took my leave, his lordship saying as he shook hands with me, "You don't know how happy this intelligence has made me. I trust that your father and I shall be good friends."
When I returned to the carriage, as my father had desired me to take an airing, I thought I might as well have a companion, so I directed them to drive to Mr Cophagus's. The servant knocked, and I went in as soon as the door was opened. Susannah and Mrs Cophagus were sitting in the room.
"Susannah," said I, "I know you do not like to walk out, so I thought, perhaps, you would have no objection to take an airing in the carriage; my father has lent it to me. Will you come?—it will do you good."
"It is very kind of you, Japhet, to think of me; but—"
"But what?" replied Mrs Cophagus. "Surely thou wilt not refuse, Susannah. It would savour much of ingratitude on thy part."
"I will not then be ungrateful," replied Susannah, leaving the room; and in a short time she returned in a Leghorn bonnet and shawl like her sister's. "Do not I prove that I am not ungrateful, Japhet, since to do credit to thy carriage, I am content to depart from the rules of our persuasion?" said Susannah, smiling.
"I feel the kindness and the sacrifice you are making to please me, Susannah," replied I; "but let us lose no time."
I handed her down to the carriage, and we drove to the Park. It was a beautiful day, and the Park was filled with pedestrians as well as carriages. Susannah was much astonished, as well as pleased. "Now, Susannah," said I, "if you were to call this Vanity Fair, you would not be far wrong; but still, recollect that even all this is productive of much good. Reflect how many industrious people find employment and provision for their families by the building of these gay vehicles, their painting and ornamenting. How many are employed at the loom, and at the needle, in making these costly dresses. This vanity is the cause of wealth not being hoarded, but finding its way through various channels, so as to produce comfort and happiness to thousands."
"Your observations are just, Japhet, but you have lived in the world, and seen much of it. I am as one just burst from an egg-shell, all amazement. I have been living in a little world of my own thoughts, surrounded by a mist of ignorance, and not being able to penetrate farther, have considered myself wise when I was not."
"My dear Susannah, this is a chequered world, but not a very bad one—there is in it much of good as well as evil. The sect to which you belong avoid it—they know it not—and they are unjust towards it. During the time that I lived at Reading, I will candidly state to you that I met with many who called themselves of the persuasion, who were wholly unworthy of it, but they made up in outward appearance and hypocrisy, what they wanted in their conduct to their fellow-creatures. Believe me, Susannah, there are pious and good, charitable and humane, conscientious and strictly honourable people among those who now pass before your view in such gay procession; but society requires that the rich should spend their money in superfluities, that the poor may be supported. Be not deceived, therefore, in future, by the outward garments, which avail nothing."
"You have induced me much to alter my opinions already, Japhet; so has that pleasant friend of thine, Mr Masterton, who has twice called since we have been in London, but is it not time that we should return?"
"It is indeed later than I thought it was, Susannah," replied I, looking at my watch, "and I am afraid that my father will be impatient for my return. I will order them to drive home."
As we drove along, leaning against the back of the carriage, my hand happened to touch that of Susannah, which lay beside her on the cushion, I could not resist taking it in mine, and it was not withdrawn. What my thoughts were, the reader may imagine; Susannah's I cannot acquaint him with; but in that position we remained in silence until the carriage stopped at Cophagus's door. I handed Susannah out of the carriage, and went up stairs for a few moments. Mrs Cophagus and her husband were out.
"Susannah, this is very kind of you, and I return you my thanks. I never felt more happy than when seated with you in that carriage."
"I have received both amusement and instruction, Japhet, and ought to thank you. Do you know what passed in my mind at one time?"
"No—tell me."
"When I first knew you, and you came among us, I was, as it were, the guide, a presumptuous one perhaps to you, and you listened to me—now it is reversed—now that we are removed and in the world, it is you that are the guide, and it is I who listen and obey."
"Because, Susannah, when we first met I was much in error, and had thought too little of serious things, and you were fit to be my guide: now we are mixing in the world, with which I am better acquainted than yourself. You then corrected me, when I was wrong: I now point out to you where you are not rightly informed: but, Susannah, what you have learnt of me is as nought compared with the valuable precepts which I gained from your lips—precepts which, I trust, no collision with the world will ever make me forget."
"Oh! I love to hear you say that; I was fearful that the world would spoil you, Japhet; but it will not—will it?"
"Not so long as I have you still with me, Susannah: but if I am obliged to mix again with the world, tell me, Susannah, will you reject me?—will you desert me?—will you return to your own people and leave me so exposed? Susannah, dearest, you must know how long, how dearly I have loved you:—you know that, if I had not been sent for and obliged to obey the message, I would have lived and died content with you. Will you not listen to me now, or do you reject me?"
I put my arm round her waist, her head fell upon my shoulder, and she burst into tears. "Speak, dearest, this suspense is torture to me," continued I.
"I do love you, Japhet," replied she at last, looking fondly at me through her tears; "but I know not whether this earthly love may not have weakened my affection towards Heaven. If so, may God pardon me, for I cannot help it." After this avowal, for a few minutes, which appeared seconds, we were in each other's arms, when Susannah disengaged herself.
"Dearest Japhet, thy father will be much displeased." "I cannot help it," replied I, "I shall submit to his displeasure."
"Nay, but, Japhet, why risk thy father's wrath?"
"Well, then," replied I, attempting to reach her lips, "I will go."
"Nay, nay—indeed, Japhet, you exact too much—it is not seemly."
"Then I won't go."
"Recollect about thy father."
"It is you who detain me, Susannah."
"I must not injure thee with thy father, Japhet, it were no proof of my affection—but, indeed, you are self-willed."
"God bless you, Susannah," said I, as I gained the contested point, and hastened to the carriage.
My father was a little out of humour when I returned, and questioned me rather sharply as to where I had been. I half pacified him by delivering Lord Windermear's polite message; but he continued his interrogations, and although I had pointed out to him that a De Benyon would never be guilty of an untruth, I am afraid I told some half dozen on this occasion; but I consoled myself with the reflection, that, in the code of honour of a fashionable man, he is bound, if necessary, to tell falsehoods where a lady is concerned; so I said I had driven through the streets looking at the houses, and had twice stopped and had gone in to examine them. My father supposed that I had been looking out for a house for him, and was satisfied. Fortunately they were job horses; had they been his own I should have been in a severe scrape. Horses are the only part of an establishment for which the gentlemen have any consideration, and on which ladies have no mercy.
I had promised the next day to dine with Mr Masterton. My father had taken a great aversion to this old gentleman until I had narrated the events of my life, in which he had played such a conspicuous and friendly part. Then, to do my father justice, his heart warmed towards him.
"My dear sir, I have promised to dine out to-day."
"With whom, Japhet?"
"Why, sir, to tell you the truth, with that 'old thief of a lawyer.'"
"I am very much shocked at your using such an expression towards one who has been such a sincere friend, Japhet; and you will oblige me, sir, by not doing so again in my presence."
"I really beg your pardon, general," replied I, "but I thought to please you."
"Please me! what do you think of me? please me, sir, by showing yourself ungrateful?—I am ashamed of you, sir."
"My dear father, I borrowed the expression from you. You called Mr Masterton 'an old thief of a lawyer' to his face: he complained to me of the language before I had the pleasure of meeting you. I feel, and always shall feel, the highest respect, love, and gratitude towards him. Have I your permission to go?"
"Yes, Japhet," replied my father, looking very grave, "and do me the favour to apologise for me to Mr Masterton for my having used such an expression in my unfortunate warmth of temper—I am ashamed of myself."
"My dearest father, no man need be ashamed who is so ready to make honourable reparation:—we are all a little out of temper at times."
"You have been a kind friend to me, Japhet, as well as a good son," replied my father, with some emotion. "Don't forget the apology at all events: I shall be unhappy until it be made."