“To-morrow evening, after the election, Egerton shall embrace you all.”
Dick started, and saying, “See Leonard as soon as you can,—there is no time to lose,” plunged into a lane that led towards the obscurer recesses of the town. Harley continued his way with the same light elastic tread which (lost during his abnegation of his own nature) was now restored to the foot, that seemed loath to leave a print upon the mire.
At the commencement of the High Street he encountered Mr. Dale and Fairfield, walking slowly, arm-in-arm.
HARLEY.—“Leonard, I was coming to you. Give me your hand. Forget for the present the words that justly stung and offended you. I will do more than apologize,—I will repair the wrong. Excuse me, Mr. Dale, I have one word to say in private to Leonard.” He drew Fairfield aside.
“Avenel tells me that if you were to retire from this contest, it would be a sacrifice of inclination. Is it so?”
“My Lord, I have sorrows that I would fain forget; and though I at first shrunk from the strife in which I have been since engaged, yet now a literary career seems to me to have lost its old charm; and I find that, in public life, there is a distraction to the thoughts which embitter solitude, that books fail to bestow. Therefore, if you still wish me to continue this contest, though I know not your motive, it will not be as it was to begin it,—a reluctant and a painful obedience to your request.”
“I understand. It was a sacrifice of inclination to begin the contest; it would be now a sacrifice of inclination to withdraw?”
“Honestly, yes, my Lord.”
“I rejoice to hear it, for I ask that sacrifice,—a sacrifice which you will recall hereafter with delight and pride; a sacrifice sweeter, if I read your nature aright—oh, sweeter far, than all which commonplace ambition could bestow! And when you learn why I make this demand, you will say, ‘This, indeed, is reparation for the words that wounded my affections, and wronged my heart.’”
“My Lord, my Lord!” exclaimed Leonard, “the injury is repaired already. You give me back your esteem, when you so well anticipate my answer. Your esteem!—life smiles again. I can return to my more legitimate career without a sigh. I have no need of distraction from thought now. You will believe that, whatever my past presumption, I can pray sincerely for your happiness.”