Young Landbergen, through the interest of his father and some other friends, is again restored to his office. He seems to have a fixed resolution to adhere to his promise, and his old father is revived now he sees his son returned to virtue. What a satisfaction for my friend, who has produced this reformation. Yesterday in my presence he returned him a thousand thanks. You have taught me to know what is true happiness, Mr. Grandison, exclaimed he; I at last see that a wicked life is no life; how dear have I paid for my licentious pleasures, by my uneasy remorse. Every day I fell into new errors. Every day they produced new difficulties. What an advantage to the mind to be satisfied with itself. How happy it is when in the evening we can reflect upon the day without being ashamed of our conduct. Formerly I was afraid to pray to God, because I had not sufficient resolution to alter my conduct; but now I feel that a prayer affords me comfort. I dare hope that the Supreme Being has again received me into favour. I lately dreaded the sight of my father as if he was an enemy, now he is my bosom friend. My former companions treat me with a kind of disdain, and that disdain is my triumph. Yes, interrupted your brother, it is your triumph; you have now the esteem of better men, you make your father’s life comfortable, and you will not miss the truest satisfaction. I am sorry that we are so soon to part, will you allow me to correspond with you? Will I? answered Landbergen; it would make me very happy. You cannot think how much he is improved in his appearance since his return to virtue, I can scarcely believe that the handsome young man I now see, is the same being whose looks almost terrified me.
Our departure for London is fixed for the 26th of next month. We often count the hours for we all long to see you. Your brother has just been making me laugh. He is the life and soul of the whole house; we shall all soon laugh together, till then adieu.
WILLIAM.
LETTER XXXII.
William to Emilia.
An officer was just now announced, and who do you think it was, dear Miss Emilia, but our old friend Edward. What an agreeable surprise to us all! Annette, who saw me shaking him cordially by the hand, ran to tell my mother, but she expected him, for Lady Grandison, as we afterwards heard, had acquainted her with his intention. I would instantly have called your brother, but Edward held me back: let us play him a trick, said he, he knows nothing of my coming. Perhaps the sudden surprise may hurt him, said my mother. No, replied Edward, I am not afraid of that. Charles continued writing longer than usual in his chamber; when supper was ready he was called down; Edward before had placed himself by the fire, with his back to the door. Charles entered, he knew him immediately, and moved some steps backwards, but, before he could speak, he observed Annette’s smiling countenance, and determined to humour the joke. Edward, in the mean time, continued sitting, thinking he was still considered by Charles as a stranger. This produced several laughable incidents; which highly diverted Annette, and even made my mother smile.
Afterwards we spent a most agreeable evening, and Edward made me a present of a very elegant sword. I hesitated, and was unwilling to receive it; not for the world, said I; I have often heard that it forebodes a breach of friendship. How, interrupted Charles, can you give way to such prejudices? Leave them to weak minds that have never been properly cultivated; that foolish idea is as absurd as the raw head and bloody bones with which they frighten little children. Adieu, you kept your secret very well.
WILLIAM.
LETTER XXXIII.
William to Emilia.
We have been in a most dreadful consternation occasioned by a false alarm, but it is now over, and has not been attended with any bad consequences. Edward was very curious to see the environs of this city, accordingly we went the day before yesterday to a village that is reckoned one of the pleasantest in Holland; the weather was that day very fine, considering the time of the year. Edward and I were conversing with great earnestness; he was particularly pleased with the high cultivation of the land, and the neat appearance of our farmhouses. Charles was some paces behind us; he stopped to assist two little children who were defending themselves against a dog, that had been, as we afterwards heard, provoked and tormented by some idle wicked boys; before your brother could raise his stick the enraged cur flew at him and bit his leg. The children in the mean time ran away and the dog after them, with his tail between his legs and his mouth wide open; he rushed by Edward, who asked if I was not frightened, and we then turned round to look for Charles. We walked slowly till he overtook us; he said nothing of the accident, and we did not perceive a little spot of blood that was on his stocking.
When we entered into the village we found it in an uproar. We heard nothing on all sides but the dog is mad! the dog is mad! and, as is usually the case, every one endeavoured to make the story appear more dreadful; one said that he had bit a horse, another five cows, nay, added the third, it was five men. Charles looked pale, but we did not guess the cause, till he pointed to the spot of blood on his stocking, and cried out see there,—I am one of them. We then went into a public house, but Edward would not stay a moment, he enquired where the surgeon of the village lived, and ran like lightning to ask his advice; but, unfortunately, he was not at home. Edward would not return without him, and ran to the different places, where it was supposed, he might be.