Haggard, careworn, anxious, as he was, the deep, ever-springing fountain of gladness in Mark Sutherland’s heart dispersed all his gloom; and, during dinner, when the jest and laugh went round, he was as usual the spring of wit and humour to the party.
After dinner, when he was about to seek an interview with his betrothed, Mrs. Vivian forestalled him, by carrying off Miss Sutherland to examine a box of goods, lately arrived from New Orleans for the bride elect. And Mr. Bolling, leaving Sutherland, senior, to entertain the guest, ran his arm through that of Mark, and marched him off in triumph.
“Well, Mark,” he said, as soon as he had got him on to the lawn, “I cannot understand it! how a young man of your strength of character, of your firmness—nay, obstinacy; stubbornness—should permit yourself to fall a prey to these adventurers.”
“I really do not see how I am their prey, Uncle Billy, or why they should be adventurers.”
“Oh, Mark, you are—I mean, dear Mark, you want experience of the world; and no amount of moral or intellectual excellence will stand you in stead for that. Nay, indeed, goodness will only make you the easier victim, and talent the more useful tool to these speculators.”
“Uncle, you wrong them! By the honour of my soul, you do! You have never seen or heard but one side of the question, and therefore you are bitterly prejudiced.”
“Prejudiced! Me prejudiced! when everybody knows that I am the most impartial person in the world! But ‘moderation has its martyrs also.’”
“You certainly are prejudiced in this matter; yet how shall I set you right? And why should I be surprised? Once, there was never such a scoffer as I was.”
“Yes, and that’s just what raises the hair of my head with wonder! Your good-humoured satire and gay indulgence used to please me so much more than your uncle’s haughty, scornful, persecuting resentment of these people’s affronts. You used to laugh, and say to your uncles, ‘Your anger is inadequate to the offence; it is ungenerous. These objects of your displeasure are very harmless enthusiasts.’ And now! Ah, Mark, I call to mind the poet’s line—
‘First endure, then pity, then embrace.’