“No, I presume not, as he has written the letter, and says nothing about it.”
Satisfied upon this point, Susan, who recollected her father’s promise, was undutiful enough, we are sorry to say, to allow her heart to bound with joy at the circumstance. All her fond hopes were about to be realised, and she could hardly refrain from carolling the words of Ariel, “Where the bee sucks, there lurk I;” but fortunately she remembered that other parties might not exactly participate in her delight. Out of respect for her father’s feelings, she therefore put on a grave countenance, in sad contrast with her eyes, which joy had brilliantly lighted up.
“Well, it’s a bad business,” continued old Hornblow. “Wilmott!” (The clerk heard his master’s voice, and came in.) “Bring me the ledger. Let me see—Belle Susanne—I wonder why the fool called her by that name, as if I had not one already to take money out of my pocket. Oh! here it is—folio 59 continued, folio 100, 129, 147,—not balanced since April last year. Be quick, and strike me out a rough balance-sheet of the lugger.”
“But what does Captain McElvina say, father?”
“What does he say? Why, that he is taken. Haven’t I told you so already, girl?” replied old Hornblow, in evident ill-humour.
“Yes, but the particulars, my dear father!”
“Oh, there’s only the fact, without particulars—says he will write more fully in a day or two.”
“I’ll answer for him, that it was not his fault, father—he has always done you justice.”
“I did not say that he had not; I’m only afraid that success has made him careless—it’s always the case.”
“Yes,” replied Susan, taking up the right cue; “as you say, father, he has been very successful.”