“Yes, madam, I must show him these papers, when signed.”
“Oh! then, tell him, that his daughter, who never disobeyed him but once, has wept bitterly for her fault; that she will probably never see him again, in this world; that she blesses him in her daily prayers. Oh! tell him, I charge you as you are a man, tell him, that I could cross the ocean happy—that I could bear years of sickness, of privation, happy—that I could die happy, if I had but my dear, dear father’s blessing.” As she said this, the young wife had unconsciously fallen upon one knee before the man of law, and her tearful eyes were bent upon his countenance in earnest supplication.
Again an indistinct noise, as of a suppressed groan or sob, was heard from behind the door, and the solicitor wiping his spectacles and turning away his face to conceal an emotion of which he felt rather ashamed, said: “I will tell him all you desire, madam; and if I receive his instructions to make any communication in reply, I will make it faithfully, and without loss of time.”
“Thank you, thank you a thousand times,” said Lucy: and resuming her seat, she endeavoured to recover her composure.
George had by this time run his eye over the papers; and although he had overheard his wife’s appeal to the solicitor, he would not interrupt her, nor throw any obstacle in the way of an object which he knew she had so much at heart. “I am perfectly satisfied, sir,” said he; “you have nothing to do but to provide the witnesses, and Mrs. Brandon will affix her signature.”
Two clerks of Mr. Perkins’ were accordingly summoned, and the discharge having been signed in their presence, they retired. Mr. Perkins now drew another paper from the leaves of a book on his table, saying: “Mr. Brandon, the discharge being now signed and attested, I have further instructions from Mr. Shirley to inform you, that although he cannot alter his determination of refusing to see his daughter, or holding any intercourse with yourself, he is desirous that you should not in America find yourself in straitened circumstances; and has accordingly authorised me to place in your hands this draft upon his banker for 5000l.”
“Mr. Perkins,” said George, in a tone of mingled sadness and pride; “in the payment of the 10,000l., my wife’s fortune, Mr. Shirley, though acting honourably, has only done justice, and has dealt as he would have dealt with strangers; had he thought proper to listen to my wife’s, or to my own repeated entreaties for forgiveness and reconciliation, I would gratefully have received from him, as from a father, any favour that he wished to confer on us; but, sir, as he refuses to see me under his roof, or even to give his affectionate and repentant child a parting blessing, I would rather work for my daily bread than receive at his hands the donation of a guinea.”
As he said this, he tore the draft and scattered its shreds on the table before the astonished lawyer. Poor Lucy was still in tears, yet one look assured her husband that she felt with him. He added in a gentler tone, “Mr. Perkins, accept my acknowledgments for your courtesy;” and, offering his arm to Lucy, turned to leave the room.