"He shall soon have a good reason, dear Blanche," replied her lover; "and I trust that we shall never--never part again."
Beauchamp found Sir Sidney Delaware more shaken by all he had undergone than he had anticipated; but the baronet's delight at seeing his young cousin, he declared, took twenty years from the load of age. "Your father, my dear Harry," he said, "was my school and college companion, and the constant friend of my heart. I thought, when first I saw you at Emberton, that your face, and voice, and manner, were all as familiar to me as household words. But why, Harry--why did you not tell me your real name--especially when you came plotting such a service as you afterwards rendered me?"
"Because, my dear sir," replied Beauchamp, "when I wrote to you, a few years before, you showed no disposition to receive me in my real character."
"That was because you refused my first invitation, just after your father's death," answered Sir Sidney.
"I never received it," replied the earl; "I never received it, upon my honour--but I am afraid, my dear sir, that there has been more than one juggle in the business, which we had better perhaps consign to oblivion altogether: and now, let me take advantage of your daughter's absence to make one request. You now know me, Sir Sidney--my principles, my mind, my heart, and my situation--can you trust Blanche's happiness to my care?--Will you give me her hand?"
Sir Sidney Delaware started up, "I have been blind to the last!" he cried. "I have been blind to the last! But think, Henry! remember what you are about! Take back your request; and, ere you make it again, call to mind your rank and prospects; and judge whether interest, or ambition, or the world's smile, may never hereafter induce you to regret that you have married a portionless girl, because she had a fair face and a gentle heart."
"Never! Sir Sidney," replied the earl. "It requires no thought. Interest, and ambition, and the world's smile, have never had any effect upon me yet, and never shall have while my faculties remain."
"Well, well," replied Sir Sidney, "I have not forgot that you do not 'worship any man for the money in his purse, nor bow low to the bottle of Lafitte upon his sideboard.' So, if your mind be really made up, you must ask Blanche herself; but by William's smiling, I fancy you have settled that matter between you already--If so, God's blessing and mine upon you both; and you shall have my consent on one sole condition, which is, that you will explain to me, clearly and distinctly, all the particulars of this business from beginning to end--for I confess I sometimes begin to think that my intellect is impaired, because I cannot get it clearly stated in my own head.--But stay, here are a number of questions which I have written down in pencil on the broad margin of my Seneca, intending to ask William. Will you undergo the catechism instead."
"Willingly!" answered Beauchamp; "and as I see Marla's carriage coming slowly up the hill from the town, we shall just have time, I dare say, to get through your questions, before she breaks in upon us with her gay pertness."
"She shall be most welcome," said Sir Sidney; and then, with spectacles on nose, and book in hand, he proceeded to read the interrogatories with which he had charged the margin of his Seneca, and thus Beauchamp was called upon to explain a great deal that the worthy reader, who has walked hand in hand along with him through the book, already understands full well.