There was an energy of utterance and a heart-reaching tone in this last sentence, which staggered Mr Darnley’s cold formality and discomposed his stateliness. The almost awful emphasis which Mr Primrose gave to the expression, “you ought to know,” reminded Mr Darnley that he had but imperfectly performed his duty to the niece of his old friend Dr Greendale; and the strong feeling thus expressed compelled the pompous man to something of more kindly thought and language. He rose from his seat, and took Mr Primrose by the hand, and said to him:
“My good sir, pray compose yourself, be seated, and I will give you all the information in my power. Your daughter is living, and is, I believe, in health. You know, I presume, that there formerly was something of an acquaintance between Miss Primrose and my son, and you also know, as I learn by a letter from my son, who had the honor of meeting you at St Helena, that this acquaintance has ceased.”
“I know it, Mr Darnley, and I am sorry for it, very sorry for it indeed, especially from what I have since heard of that young gentleman who is said to be paying attention to her.”
Mr Darnley here shook his head, and then proceeded.
“After the decease of my good friend and neighbour Dr Greendale, before I knew that the correspondence had ceased between the young folks, I offered Miss Primrose an asylum in my house.”
Here Mr Darnley paused for a compliment; he had learned that of the Right Honorable the Earl of Smatterton. Mr Primrose paid him the proper compliment on his liberality, and the worthy rector continued his narrative.
“Miss Primrose was pleased to decline the offer on the ground that the Countess of Smatterton had taken upon herself to provide for her. And it is not many days since Miss Primrose left Smatterton for London, where she now is, in the house of Lord Smatterton, and she honored us with a call before her departure, and I took the liberty of giving her the best advice in my power, to guard her against the snares and dangers to which she might be exposed in that profession which she is about to adopt.”
“Profession she is about to adopt! Mr Darnley. And may I ask what that profession is?”
“The musical profession, Mr Primrose.”
The father of Penelope was indignant, and he replied contemptuously: “Impossible! Can the patronage of the Countess do nothing better for my child than make her a teacher of music. But there will be no necessity now—”