As Mr Simpson sat silent during this communication, Sir John continued some time longer in the same strain. He made no doubt that the simple mathematician before him was quite under his influence—was completely in his power. That simple person, however, who lived in obscurity, almost in penury—to society an object of its wisely directed ridicule—was a man of honour. Little had he to do with the world; even its good opinion was scarcely of any importance to him. What to him was the fastidiousness of virtue—to him whom poverty excluded from the refined portion of society, and knowledge and education from the vulgar and illiterate? What could he profit by it? Nothing, absolutely nothing. And yet there was no power on earth could have made this man false to his honour. Partly, perhaps, from his very estrangement from the business of the world, his sense of virtue had retained its fresh and youthful susceptibility. As is the case with all such men, he was slow to attribute villany to others. This it was had kept him silent; he waited to be quite convinced that he understood Sir John. When the truth stood plainly revealed, when it became evident to him that this debt of ten thousand pounds was not paid, and that he was brought there to be bribed or intimidated into a guilty secrecy, his whole soul fired up with indignation.
He had listened, as we say, in silence. When satisfied that he perfectly comprehended Sir John, he rose from his seat, and briefly intimating that he should not leave him long in doubt as to the manner in which he should act, turned, and abruptly left the apartment. Sir John had no time to arrest him, and could only follow, and be a witness to his movements. He re-entered the drawing-room. Where were now all the terrors of that scene? Where the awe which its easy elegant ceremonial inspired? Gone, utterly gone. He had now a duty to fulfil. You would have said it was another man. Had he been the proprietor of the mansion, he could not have entered with a more assured and unembarrassed air. There was a perfect freedom and dignity in his demeanour as he stepped across the room. In the centre of the room, throned, as it were, upon the sofa, sat two ladies, remarkable above all the others, for the finished elegance of their manner, and the splendour of their toilet. The one was Lady Steventon, the other Mrs Vincent. Some minutes ago, not for all the world would he have stood alone upon that piece of carpet in front of this sofa. No courtier, assured of the most smiling reception, could have drawn his chair with more ease to the vacant spot beside Mrs Vincent, than did now Mr Simpson. He immediately entered into conversation on the subject that at the moment engrossed all his thoughts; he reminded her of the confidential intimacy which had subsisted between himself and her late father; proffered his assistance to aid her in the arrangement of her affairs; and, in particular, gave a succinct account of the transaction which Sir John had manifested so great anxiety to conceal.
The manner in which all this was said, so entirely took Sir John Steventon by surprise, that he was unable to interfere with a single word. Mrs Vincent, to whom the information was evidently quite new, concealed the embarrassment she felt in some general expressions of thanks to Mr Simpson. He, when he had fulfilled his object, rose, and making a profound bow to his host and hostess, quitted the house. His demeanour was such, that his host involuntarily returned his salutation with one of marked deference and respect.
Chapter II.
A year had rolled round, and Mrs Vincent was established in all her rights. Sir John Steventon had been disappointed in the fraudulent scheme he had devised; not disappointed, however, as he deemed, in the revenge he had taken on the man who had frustrated it. Payment of Mr Simpson's annuity was resisted, and the poor mathematician was in great straits for those necessaries of life, which, necessary as they may be, are often with a great portion of the human family very fortuitous. Ask not on what legal pretexts Sir John had been successful in inflicting this revenge. Such pretexts are "thick as blackberries." Facilis est descensus—No rich suitor ever sought long for admission into the Court of Chancery, however difficult even he may have found the escape from it. Neither, do we apprehend, is there any remedy for this abuse of law, in the legal reforms usually contemplated by our legislators. The only effective remedy, if we may be here permitted to give a remark, would be this—that the state administer civil justice at its own expense to rich and poor alike—that, as it protects each man's life and limb, so it should protect each man's property, which is the means of life, which is often as essential to him as the limbs by which he moves. This is the only mode of realizing that "equal justice" which at present is the vain boast of every system of jurisprudence, when the suitor has to pay for protection to his property.
Poor Simpson, who had lived for some years on his scanty annuity, and had lived content, for his wants were few, and his mind utterly absorbed in his science, now found himself without the simplest means of subsistence. He had escaped, as he thought, for ever, from the necessity of applying his science to satisfy mere animal wants; he began to think he should be very fortunate if all his science would procure for him the commonest "board and lodging!" When a man has ceased to cultivate his relationship with society, and wishes, after a time, to return to them, he will find that a blank wall has been built up between him and the world. There is not even a door to knock at, let alone the chance of its opening when he knocks. Our mathematician knew not where to look for a pupil, nor for a friend who would recommend him. Some unavailing attempts he made to obtain his rights through litigation; but he soon found, that to the loss of his money he was adding only the loss of all tranquillity of mind. The lawyer he employed neglected (and very naturally) a suit which would have required on his part large advances, the repayment of which was very precarious.
In this predicament he bethought himself of making an appeal to Mrs Vincent, the lady whom he had benefited by his simple and straightforward honesty; not that he held her under any peculiar obligation to him; what he had done was by no means to oblige her; it was strictly a self-obligation; he could not have acted otherwise, let the consequences have been what they might. But he reasoned with himself, that the annuity of which he was deprived would fall into the general residue of the estate, and be in fact paid to her; and as he could not believe that she would wish to profit by the villany of Sir John, he thought there could be nothing derogatory to him, nor exacting upon her, if he proposed to relinquish entirely his legal claim upon the estate, and receive the annuity from her hands. She must surely be desirous, he thought, to fulfil the solemn engagements of her deceased parent. Full of these cogitations, he betook himself to London, where Mrs Vincent had established herself.
The reader must imagine himself introduced into an elegantly furnished drawing-room, in one of the most fashionable quarters of the metropolis. Had we any talent for the description of the miracles of upholstery, it would be a sin to pass over so superb and tasteful a scene without a word. But the little descriptive power we possess must be reserved for the lady who was sitting in the midst of one of those domestic miniature palaces, of which the "interiors" of London could present so great a number. Mrs Vincent had lately become a widow, at the opening of our narrative, and was therefore still dressed in black. But though in black, or rather perhaps on that very account, her attire was peculiarly costly. In black only can magnificence of apparel be perfectly allied with purity of taste. And certainly nothing could harmonize better than the rich satin dress, and the superb scarf of lace which fell over it with such a gorgeous levity. A pope in his highest day of festival might have coveted that lace. Between the black satin and the light folds of the scarf, relieved by the one, and tempered, and sometimes half hidden by the other, played a diamond cross, which might have been the ransom of a Great Mogul. The features of Mrs Vincent were remarkably delicate, and her pale beauty was of that order which especially interests the imagination. She wore her hair plainly parted upon either side, revealing the charming contour of her well-shaped head. A patriarch would have gloried in his age if it gave him the privilege to take that dear head between his hands, and imprint his holy kiss upon the forehead. Her little girl, her sole companion and chief treasure in the world, stood prattling before her; and the beauty of the young mother was tenfold increased by the utter forgetfulness of herself, which she manifested as she bent over her child, absorbed in the beauty of that dear little image which she was never weary of caressing.
Mrs Vincent was even more fascinating in manner than in appearance. She was one of those charming little personages whom every one idolizes, whom men and women alike consent to pet. It was impossible to be in the same room with her half an hour without being perfectly ready to do every thing, reasonable or unreasonable, that she could request of you. The charm of her conversation, or rather of her society, was irresistible; there was a sweet subdued gaiety in her speech, accent, and gestures which made you happy, you knew not why; and though by no means a wit, nor laying the least claim to be a clever person, there was a sprightly music in her tones, and a spontaneous vivacity in her language, which left a far more delightful impression than the most decided wit.
Where shall we find a more beautiful picture than that of a young mother, and that mother a widow, bending over the glossy tresses of her child? Never is woman so attractive, so subduing; never does she so tenderly claim our protection; never is she so completely protected, so unassailable, so predominant. Poor Simpson felt his heart penetrated with the holiest love and veneration when he entered the room.