“And that orphan, sir, is my daughter.” He paused for a minute or two, and his companion was too much astonished and interested to interrupt him: recovering himself, he continued: “For many years after that child was born, I had not the means of making any other provision for it than placing it under the care of the old woman of whom we have been speaking. I gave her such compensation as my circumstances then allowed; and as the mother of the child died soon after the birth of the infant, I thought myself freed from all farther responsibility when I had made provision for the infant. I endeavoured, indeed, to forget the event altogether; and as I wished to form a respectable connexion in marriage, I took especial care to conceal this transgression. However, various circumstances prevented me from time to time from entering into the married state; and having within the last twelve years come into the possession of larger property than I had ever anticipated, it occurred to me that there should be living at Genoa a child of mine, then indeed long past childhood. I wrote to Genoa, and had no answer; I went to Genoa, and could find no trace either of my child or of the old woman to whose care I had entrusted her; and I was grieved not so much for the loss of my child, as for the lack of an opportunity of making some amends for my crime. I am delighted to hear that she lives. To-morrow I will see her.”
Colonel Rivolta scarcely believed his senses. He was indeed very sure that the person whom he had married was described as an orphan of English parents, and he had no reason to imagine that Mr. Martindale was attempting to deceive him. It was, indeed, a great discovery to him that he had married the daughter of an English gentleman of great fortune; and perhaps under all circumstances the foreigner was most delighted of the two at the discovery: for thereby he had insured to himself a friend and protector when he most needed one; and he was happy at the thought that his own child would thus have a powerful friend, and be preserved from the dangers and snares with which he might think that she would be otherwise surrounded; and with whatever sentiments Mr. Martindale might regard the discovery of his daughter, it may be easily imagined that Colonel Rivolta’s child, over whom he had constantly watched with the utmost care and anxiety, was far more affectionately interesting to him than was the daughter of Mr. Martindale to her parent, who had never seen her since her infancy, and who had never paid her any attention, but had almost endeavoured to forget her. It appeared indeed very singular to the Colonel, that Mr. Martindale should so patiently wait till the following day before he would see his newly-discovered daughter. But the old gentleman was a great oddity, and a most unaccountable being; and so any one would have thought who had seen him after this interview with the foreigner calmly return to his company, and amuse himself with looking over his portfolios of pictures. So however he did; and when this agitation was over, he was more cheerful than before, and quite as full as ever of whims and humours.
CHAPTER XIII.
“——reason, my son,
Should choose himself a wife; but as good reason,
The father (all whose joy is nothing else
But fair posterity) should hold some counsel
In such business.”