Chapter XVII.
Mr. Honeywood's Convalescence.
When Prue and I made up our Books at the Year's End, we found to our great Thankfulness and Satisfaction, that in spite of our having paid many heavy Bills of my Father's, we were on the right Side the Post, and had cleared a good Year's Income. And this I told my Father in so many Words, thinking it would please him as well as ourselves.
"Humph!" said he; "'In spite of having paid many of your Father's heavy Bills.' This carries an ill Sound with it. And the Sense is worse. Many a Father grudges paying his thoughtless Son's bills: well may industrious Daughters grudge paying the Bills of a thoughtless Father—"
"Dear Father! I'm sure we don't grudge—"
"Silence, Mrs. Patty! If I'm falling into a profitable and penitent State of Mind, why should you hinder me? Do you want Nobody to be good but yourself? That's your Pride. I've got my Share of Self-Knowledge and Humiliation, I hope, as well as other People; and when I say I've been thoughtless, Madam, (smiting the Table with his Fist,) I seriously mean it!"
As Mr. Fenwick had just been talking with him, I attributed this virtuous Self-Indignation to his Influence, and only hoped it might last. My Father and he were now mighty Friends: although we were so far from Shoreditch, Mr. Fenwick stepped over to us at least once a Week, saying he could not forget our Attentions to himself during his Illness, and considered us as a kind of Out-Parishioners. On these Occasions he frequently spent an Hour alone with my Father, and then joined us at the Tea-Table, which was profitable to the one Party and pleasant to the other.