“No mystery at all, girls. You will all be disappointed when I tell you; so you had better let it alone.”
But beset on all sides, even by his father and mother, Edward told the simple truth, which our readers no doubt have already guessed. His money had been applied in releasing Willie’s father from prison; restoring his mother to health, by giving her and her children nourishing food, securing a passage for them all to New York, and investing the trifling surplus for their use on their arrival. He told his tale hurriedly, as if he feared to be accused of folly, and his father did somewhat blame him. He was provoked that the little scheme of pleasure and improvement, which Edward had anticipated so many weeks, should be frustrated; and annoyed that he should be disappointed, though the disappointment was perfectly voluntary. How could he tell that the man’s story was true? How was he sure the money would produce the good effect he hoped? He must say he thought it a pity, a very great pity; a visit to Paris would be so improving; Mr. Morison’s family such a desirable connection—and other regrets, which, without being a very worldly parent, were not perhaps unnatural.
“My dear father,” was Edward’s earnest and affectionate rejoinder, “do not be vexed for my sake. A visit to the Continent would no doubt have been improving; but I will work doubly hard in dear old England, and that, though it may not be as much pleasure, will be just as serviceable. With regard to Miss Morison,” his cheek slightly flushed, “if her affections are only to be secured by being constantly at her side, and always playing the lover, there could be no happiness in a nearer connection for either. A separation for three or four months can surely have no effect on real regard, and I am quite willing to subject both myself and Julia to the ordeal. As to not being sure of doing the good I hope—who can be? I do believe that poor fellow’s story, I confess, and strongly believe he will do well; but I do not mean to give the subject another thought, except to work the harder. The money is as much gone as freely given, and I expect as little reward as if I had thrown it on the waters—”
“Where thou shall find it after many days,” continued his mother, so affectionately and approvingly, that Edward threw his arm round her and kissed her tenderly. “You have done right, my dear boy; and if Julia Morison does not think so, she is not worthy of your love.”
How quick is woman’s, above all, a mother’s penetration. From the first allusion to Miss Morison in the preceding conversation, she knew that something had occurred between them to annoy, if it did not wound her son; and the moment she heard the story she guessed the actual fact. Perhaps her penetration in this instance was aided by previous observation. She had never liked Miss Morison, desirable as from worldly motives the connection might be. Edward, youth-like, had been captivated by her beauty and vivacity, and gratified by her very marked preference for himself. His complete unconsciousness that he really was the handsomest and most engaging young man of the town of L——, by depriving him of all conceit, increased Miss Julia’s fascination. Mr. Morison was member for the county, and had made himself universally popular; and certainly took marked notice of Edward. The good people of L—— were too simple-minded to discover that their member’s attractions were merely graces of manner; and that he noticed Edward only because he was perfectly secure that his daughter would never do such a foolish thing as to promise her hand to the son of a country attorney, however agreeable he might be.
Edward’s wish to accompany them to the Continent met with decided approval. Mr. Morison thought the young man would save him a great deal of trouble, as a kind of gentleman valet, without a salary; and Miss Julia was delighted at this unequivocal proof of his devotion, and at the amusement she promised herself in playing off her country beau on the Continent, his simplicity being the shield to cover her manœuvres; besides, he would be such an excellent pis aller, that she need never be without a worshipper.
That such a person could appreciate Edward’s real character, or enter into his motives for, and his disappointment in, not accompanying her, was impossible. For regret, even for anger, he had prepared himself, nay, might have been disappointed had she evinced no emotion; but for the cold sneer, first of doubt, then of unequivocal contempt, which was her sole rejoinder to his agitated confession, he was not prepared, and it chilled his very heart. Still he tried to deceive himself, and believe that all she said of benevolence, disinterestedness, and a long et-cetera, was the sympathy he yearned for; but the tone and manner with which she informed her father in his presence of his change of purpose, and its praiseworthy cause, could not, even by a lover more infatuated than Edward, have been misunderstood; his spirit rose, and with it his self-respect. He said very little, but that little convinced both Julia and her father that he was not quite the simpleton which they had supposed him.
He left them, wounded to the core; to his warm, generous nature, worldliness was abhorrent even in a man, and in a woman it seemed to him something so unnatural, so revolting, that it dispersed at once the bright creation of his enthusiastic fancy, and displayed Miss Morison almost in her true character.
Still, notwithstanding all this pain and disappointment, Edward never once regretted the impulse he had followed; and when, about six or seven months afterwards, he received the most grateful letters from Willie and his father, informing him that the opening offered, though attended with many difficulties, promised fair, he felt the sacrifice was more than recompensed, and from that hour never thought of it himself again. But his assertion, that he would work the harder to make up for those continental advantages which he had lost, was no idle boast; he did so well, that even his father forgot his vexation; and his industry united with great personal economy, enabled him to give his sisters richer and more useful presents than the bijouterie which he had laughingly promised to bring them from France.
The marriage of Miss Julia Morison with some foreign Count, before six months elapsed, had happily no effect on Edward’s equanimity; it might, nay, it did cause a transient pang, but he recovered it much sooner than his father did the loss of so desirable a connection.