Meantime the sale went on. The property realized more than enough to pay all that Mr. Elliot was bound for, and yet was struck off for one third its value.
I settled with the sheriff, and then went to Mr. Elliot, and offered to put the property again in his hands, and give him his own time to pay for it.
He accepted my offer with tears in his eyes, and although I felt mean for taking, even for a moment, the credit which belonged of right to Tom, yet I stood it like a man.
All would have gone on very well, but the wife of the man from whom Tom borrowed the money for the purchase was a gossip, and could not keep to herself any thing she knew; and very soon the true state of the case was made known to the Elliots.
For a while Tom was very anxious about the result, but he came to me one morning with this note in his hands:
“Dear Sir,—I have behaved very foolishly. If you can add charity to generosity, come and see us, and you will find me very truly your friend,
Emile Neufchatel Elliot.”
It did not take Tom long to go. It did not take me long to explain to Parson Harris that his services would be wanted in the chancel one of those mornings. The service itself was short, though from my boyhood up, I never knew Mr. Harris to offend against a rubric. And it was a short ride from the church to the plantation. Mr. Harris said a short grace, and the dinner was delightfully long.
At the end of it, I noticed Mrs. Elliot playing with one of the silver spoons, and then suddenly dropping it when she perceived that I was observing her.
This motion drew general attention to her, but though embarrassed for a moment, she recovered herself, and said with a pleasant smile, “I must confess, my dear Jane, that I am entirely happy in retracting a speech which I made to you some years ago. You shall have all the new-fashioned silver in the house, and I am sure it will be doubly valuable in your eyes, because the name you have adopted is already stamped upon it.”