When Markham was left alone to his meditations, he thought over his follies and weaknesses; and soon came to the conclusion, that though books teach a great deal, they do not teach every thing. His own case was one that perplexed him much more than the cases of any of his clients. Had any one brought and proposed the case to his consideration, asking for his opinion, he would have been able, it may be, to contemplate it deliberately, and offer something in the shape of advice; but as the case was his own, he could not so calmly and coolly study it. None of his books of law-precedents would give him the least assistance. That is a very awkward state of mind to be placed in, when something must be done and nothing can be done.
Myriads of young gentlemen have been much more assiduous in their attentions to various young ladies than Markham had been to Miss Henderson, and have never thought any thing of ceasing those attentions when they felt so inclined. This, however, was not such conduct as Markham could approve, nor such an example as he would willingly follow. He was a very conscientious man. Some have thought him to be almost fastidious in those matters. He was desirous of having a very high character, and wished that his conduct should be such as to need no apologies or excuses or vindications, either on the ground of morals or of intellect. But how to escape in the present instance the reproaches that might cleave to him on a moral ground on one side, or an intellectual on the other, he could not easily and readily see. For if he should in consequence of the attentions which he had paid to Miss Henderson, and by which he had undesignedly given her reason to expect an offer of his hand, actually propose to her and marry her, he felt that he should be making a foolish bargain, and should deserve for his own heedlessness whatever inconveniences might result from the marriage. Or if, as he really had no serious intentions, he should not make the offer of his hand, but gradually decline or drop the acquaintance, then would he be reproached, and not without some show of justice, for having paid unmeaning and deceiving attentions where he had no other motive than merely to amuse himself. This was what he could not bear with any degree of patience. It was absolutely necessary for him to decide soon; for he should of course be under the necessity of soon calling on the Hendersons, or giving up his acquaintance with them altogether.
While he was in this painful, or at least very unpleasant state of hesitation and anxiety, he received a message from his noble patron or friend. This message required Markham's immediate attendance on his lordship, and this immediate attendance was by Markham most cheerfully given.
"My good friend," said his lordship, "when you first returned to England you honored me with a call, but I have seen nothing of you since. You have not found my doors closed to you."
"I was fearful," replied Markham, "that I might by repeating my call seem to be intrusive, and claiming an acquaintance to which I have no right to aspire."
"Nonsense, nonsense," returned his lordship; "it is becoming in a young man to be aspiring: ambition is of itself neither virtue nor vice, its moral quality depends on its accompaniments and means. Never be content with an humble station when it is in your power to gain a higher."
"I was also fearful," said Markham, "that I might encroach on your lordship's valuable time."
"Yes, yes, that is very well," said his lordship in reply; "have a proper regard to time. It looks very important to be full of business; but I think you must know me well enough to see that it is not my forte to ape importance by such tricks. Just at this moment I am not at all busy. I can spare you an hour or two, and I may perhaps therefore encroach upon your time. But I have sent for you to say that I have a situation for you in England; one which will not take you from your friends, nor interfere with your health. If you have ambition, as I trust you have, you may have an opportunity of rising in the world. It is all very well to be content with your situation when you cannot make it better; contentment in any other circumstances is mere idleness and indolence."