The vessels in which the two gentlemen sailed soon weighed anchor and put to sea again. So the friends were parted for a time; nor did they hold any farther communication on the course of their voyage, for they had not left St Helena many days before the ship parted company in a gale of wind. That vessel in which Mr Primrose sailed first arrived in England, as we have already intimated.
CHAPTER XIV.
England appeared to Mr Primrose quite a new world. He had sixteen years ago sailed down the river Thames, which presented on its banks at that time quite as much picturesque beauty as now. But he did not then observe these beauties. His heart was full of other thoughts, and his mind was moved by widely different feelings. There had not been in his soul the sentiment of moral beauty, nor was there in his heart that repose of pleasure which could admit of enjoying the external world in its manifestations of beauty or sublimity. But on his return homewards his thoughts were far different. He had left England in forlorn hope, but he was returning under brighter auspices. He had sailed from his native land, bearing a deeply felt burden of self-reproach; and though he could not forget or forgive his former self, and though still there were painful scenes to be witnessed, and melancholy information to be received, yet the aspect of things was widely different from what it had been at his departure. And he expressed himself delighted with all that he saw. The little boats and the lighter craft upon the river spoke of bustle and activity, and of human interest; and in them he saw the flutterings of business and prosperity. Though it was winter, and the trees on the rising grounds were leafless, and the fields had lost their greenness, yet the very pattern and outline of what the scene had been in summer, and of what it would be again in spring, were all very charming to his eye, then active with imagination. His own bright thoughts gave verdure to the trees and greenness to the fields; and he thought that England indeed was a blessed land. And as the vessel made her way up the river, and as at a distance a dense black cloud was seen, he knew that that was a manifestation of their vicinity to the great city, and that dark mass of floating smoke, which rustic eloquence so glibly reprobates, was to his soul a great refreshment and a most pleasing sight.
As soon as he disembarked, he first directed his steps to the office of his agent in the city, to make enquiry respecting the speediest mode of arriving at Smatterton: for he knew not that his daughter’s residence was now in London. There is a great contrast between the appearance of the banks of the Thames and the inside of a city counting-house; but they are both very pleasant sights to those who are glad to see them. Mr Primrose was indeed very glad to see his native land, and to walk the streets of its busy metropolis; and with very great cordiality did he shake hands with the principal in the office, and very politely did the principal congratulate him on his return to England. Mr Primrose did not notice the great contrast between his own joy-expanded face and the business-looking aspect of the agent; but he thought that all London looked as glad to see him as he was to see London. After transacting at the office of his agent such business as was immediately important, and without waiting to observe what changes and improvements had taken place in the great city since he had left it sixteen years ago, he made enquiry after the readiest and quickest mode of reaching Smatterton, and finding that the stage-coach was the most rapid conveyance, he immediately directed his steps thitherward.
There are in the course of human life many strange and singular coincidences. Now it happened that the very day on which Mr Primrose was preparing to start for Smatterton, Mr Kipperson also was going to travel the same road, and by the same conveyance. Little did the former imagine that he was going away from his daughter; little did he think that, in his way to the White Horse cellar in Piccadilly, he had actually passed the house in which his beloved child and only hope lay sick and ill. The days in December are very short; and it was nearly dark when, at four o’clock in the afternoon, Mr Primrose and Mr Kipperson, unknown to each other, took their seats in the coach. They had the inside of the coach to themselves.
Mr Primrose, as we have said, was in good spirits. He certainly had some cause for grief, and some source of concern; but the feeling of satisfaction was most prominent. He had shed tears to the memory of Dr Greendale, and he hoped that the worthy man had so instructed the dependent one committed to his care, that no permanent cause of uneasiness would be found in her. The intelligence which he had received respecting her alleged and supposed fickleness came from Mr Darnley, and the father, therefore, knowing Mr Darnley to be a very severe and rigid kind of man, and withal mighty positive, hoped that a premature judgment had been formed, and trusted that, when all was explained, all would be right. We must indeed do the father of Penelope the justice to say that, with all his failings, he was sincere, candid, and downright. He never suffered any misunderstanding to exist where it could possibly be cleared up. He was plain and direct in all his conduct.
We need not say that Mr Kipperson was in good spirits. He always was so. He was so very happy that by this last journey to London he had saved the nation from being starved to death by a superabundance of corn. What a fine thing it is to be the cleverest man in the kingdom! What would become of us all were it not for such men as Mr Kipperson starting up about once in a century, or twice a-week, to rectify all the errors of all the rest of the world? And what is the use of all the world beside, but to admire the wisdom of such men as Mr Kipperson? Our only fear is that we may have too many such profoundly wise men; and the consequence of an over supply of wisdom would be to ruin the nation by folly.
Whether Mr Kipperson addressed Mr Primrose, or Mr Primrose addressed Mr Kipperson, we know not; but in a very short time they became mighty good friends. To some observation of Mr Primrose, his fellow traveller replied:
“You have been abroad I suppose, sir?”
“I have, sir,” said Mr Primrose; “and that for a long while: it is now upwards of sixteen years since I left England, and I am most happy to return to it. Many changes have taken place since I went abroad, and some, I hope, for the better.”