These were bitter drops; but where is the cup of human prosperity without them? In reading the record of even the most fortunate man’s career, we may be sure that, though it appears to run with such unbroken smoothness, there is many a hitch. We hear the triumphant pæans, but not the deep low notes of chagrin and disappointment that to the hero’s own ear accompany them and turn his blood to gall. The shining shield, bossed with victories, appears to be of solid gold, but there is but a thin coating of it, and underneath lies rusted and corroding iron. It is something, however, to show gold at all; and Margaret was prompt with her comfort.
‘When, my dear Willie, was good fortune without its drawbacks? These are but spots in the sun of our prosperity, and we should have only room in our hearts for gratitude. Think how much sunshine we have had of late, and how far beyond our expectations. When you first chanced upon these wonderful discoveries, how great a thing it would have seemed to you to light on such a treasure trove as the “Vortigern,“ and then to have it accepted by Sheridan for Drury Lane! Think of that!’
‘Quite true, my darling; and yet you have not mentioned the highest gift that Fortune has vouchsafed me, compared with which all her other favours are mere gilt and tinsel—your dear self.’
‘Tut, tut; you are a born actor, sir, and should offer your services to Mr. Kemble.’
He looked at her with troubled eyes, gravely, almost sorrowfully, then folded her to his breast without a word.
It was clear, she thought, that Mrs. Siddons’s refusal to play her part had disappointed him cruelly.
One day two ladies called to see Mr. Erin. The antiquary, as it happened, was out: upon hearing which, they expressed a wish to see his son. William Henry, who no more went to the office in the New Inn, but transacted his father’s business for him at home (not so much that he was necessary to it as because the old gentleman preferred to keep the lad about him), was neither mounting drawings nor cataloguing prints, but exchanging pretty nothings with Margaret, when the servant came with her message.
‘Ladies to see you, Willie,’ said she, laughing. ‘I am almost inclined to be jealous; I wonder what can be their business?’
‘They want to see the MSS., I suppose,’ he said indifferently. ‘Well, at all events I can’t get at them; your uncle has taken the key of the chest with him.’
Margaret shook her head.