As he uttered this in broken sentences, I returned to him. He held out his hand. "Forgive me, boy--forgive your father." I knelt down and kissed his hand; he drew me towards him, and I wept upon his bosom.
PART THREE, CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
FATHER STILL DUTIFULLY SUBMISSIVE AT HOME--ABROAD, I AM SPLITTING A STRAW IN ARGUMENTS WITH SUSANNAH ABOUT STRAW BONNETS--THE REST OF THE CHAPTER CONTAINS COQUETRY, COURTING, AND COSTUMES.
It was some time before we were sufficiently composed to enter into conversation, and then I tried my utmost to please him. Still there was naturally a restraint on both sides, but I was so particular and devoted in my attentions, so careful of giving offence, that when he complained of weariness, and a wish to retire, he stipulated that I should be with him to breakfast on the next morning.
I hastened to Mr Masterton, although it was late, to communicate to him all that had pa.s.sed: he heard me with great interest. "j.a.phet," said he, "you have done well--it is the proudest day of your life. You have completely mastered him. The royal Bengal tiger is tamed. I wish you joy, my dear fellow. Now I trust that all will be well. But keep your own counsel; do not let this be known at Reading. Let them still imagine that your father is as pa.s.sionate as ever, which he will be, by-the-by, with everybody else. You have still to follow up your success, and leave me to help you in other matters."
I returned home to the Piazza, and, thankful to Heaven for the events of the day, I soon fell fast asleep, and dreamt of Susannah Temple. The next morning I was early at the Adelphi Hotel; my father had not yet risen, but the native servants who pa.s.sed in and out, attending upon him, and who took care to give me a wide berth, had informed him that "Burra Sahib"s" son was come, and he sent for me. His leg was very painful and uncomfortable, and the surgeon had not yet made his appearance. I arranged it as before, and he then dressed, and came out to breakfast. I had said nothing before the servants, but as soon as he was comfortable on the sofa, I took his hand, and kissed it, saying, "Good morning, my dear father; I hope you do not repent of your kindness to me yesterday."
"No, no; G.o.d bless you, boy. I"ve been thinking of you all night."
"All"s right," thought I; "and I trust to be able to keep it so."
I shall pa.s.s over a fortnight, during which I was in constant attendance upon my father. At times he would fly out in a most violent manner, but I invariably kept my temper, and when it was all over, would laugh at him, generally repeating and acting all which he had said and done during his paroxysm. I found this rather dangerous ground at first, but by degrees he became used to it, and it was wonderful how it acted as a check upon him. He would not at first believe but that I exaggerated, when the picture was held up to his view and he was again calm. My father was not naturally a bad-tempered man, but having been living among a servile race, and holding high command in the army, he had gradually acquired a habit of authority and an impatience of contradiction which was unbearable to all around. Those who were high-spirited and sensitive shunned him; the servile and the base continued with him for their own interests, but trembled at his wrath.
I had during this time narrated to my father the events of my life, and, I am happy to say, had, by attention and kindness joined with firmness and good temper, acquired a dominion over him. I had at his request removed to the hotel, and lived with him altogether. His leg was rapidly arriving to a state of convalescence, and he now talked of taking a house and setting up his establishment in London. I had seen but little of Mr Masterton during this time, as I had remained in-doors in attendance upon the general. I had written once to Mr Cophagus, stating how I was occupied, but saying nothing about our reconciliation.
One morning, Mr Masterton called upon us, and after a little conversation with the general, he told me that he had persuaded Mr Cophagus and his wife to leave Reading and come to London, and that Susannah Temple was to come with them.
"On a visit?" inquired I.
"No, not on a visit. I have seen Cophagus, and he is determined to cut the Quakers, and reside in London altogether."
"What! does he intend to return to the pomps and vanities of this wicked world?"
"Yes, I believe so, and his wife will join him. She has no objection to decorate her pretty person."
"I never thought that she had--but Susannah Temple--"
"When Susannah is away from her friends, when she finds that her sister and brother-in-law no longer wear the dress, and when she is constantly in your company, to all which please to add the effect I trust of my serious admonitions, she will soon do as others do, or she is no woman.
This is all my plan, and leave it to me--only play your part by seeing as much of her as you can."
"You need not fear that," replied I.
"Does your father know of your attachment?" inquired Mr Masterton.
"No, I pa.s.sed her over without mentioning her name," replied I. "It is too soon yet to talk to him about my marrying; in fact, the proposal must, if possible, come from him. Could not you manage that?"
"Yes, I will if I can; but, as you say, wait awhile. Here is their address--you must call to-morrow, if you can; and do you think you can dine with me on Thursday?"
"Yes, if the general continues improving; if not, I will send you word."
The next day I complained of a head-ache, and said, that I would walk out until dinner-time. I hastened to the address given me by Mr Masterton, and found that Mr Cophagus and his wife were out, but Susannah remained at home. After our first questions, I inquired of her how she liked London.
"I am almost afraid to say, j.a.phet, at least to you; you would only laugh at me."
"Not so, Susannah; I never laugh when I know people are sincere."
"It appears to me then to be a vanity fair."
"That there is more vanity in London than in any other city, I grant,"
replied I; "but recollect, that there are more people and more wealth.
I do not think that there is more in proportion than in other towns in England, and if there is more vanity, Susannah, recollect also that there is more industry, more talent, and I should hope a greater proportion of good and honest people among its mult.i.tudes; there is also, unfortunately, more misery and more crime."
"I believe you are right, j.a.phet. Are you aware that Mr Cophagus has put off his plain attire?"
"If it grieves you, Susannah, it grieves me also; but I presume he finds it necessary not to be so remarkable."
"For him, I could find some excuse; but what will you say, j.a.phet, when I tell you that my own sister, born and bred up to our tenets, hath also much deviated from the dress of the females of our sect?"
"In what hath she made an alteration?"
"She has a bonnet of plaited straw with ribands."
"Of what colour are the ribands?"
"Nay, of the same as her dress--of grey."
"Your bonnet, Susannah, is of grey silk; I do not see that there is vanity in descending to straw, which is a more homely commodity. But what reason has she given?"
"That her husband wills it, as he does not like to walk out with her in her Quaker"s dress."
"Is it not her duty to obey her husband, even as I obey my father, Susannah?--but I am not ashamed to walk out with you in your dress; so if you have no objection, let me show you a part of this great city."
Susannah consented: we had often walked together in the town of Reading: she was evidently pleased at what I said. I soon escorted her to Oxford-Street, from thence down Bond Street and through all the most frequented parts of the metropolis. The dress naturally drew upon her the casual glance of the pa.s.sengers, but her extreme beauty turned the glance to an ardent gaze, and long before we had finished our intended walk, Susannah requested that I would go home. She was not only annoyed but almost alarmed at the constant and reiterated scrutiny which she underwent, ascribing it to her dress, and not to her lovely person. As soon as we returned I sat down with her.
"So I understand that Mr Cophagus intends to reside altogether in London."
"I have not heard so; I understood that it was business which called him hither for a few weeks. I trust not, for I shall be unhappy here."
"May I ask why?"
"The people are rude--it is not agreeable to walk out."
"Recollect, my dear Susannah, that those of your sect are not so plentiful in London as elsewhere, and if you wear a dress so different from other people, you must expect that curiosity will be excited. You cannot blame them--it is you who make yourself conspicuous, almost saying to the people by your garment, "Come, and look at me." I have been reflecting upon what Mr Masterton said to you at Reading, and I do not know whether he was not right in calling it a garb of pride instead of a garb of humility."
"If I thought so, j.a.phet, even I would throw it off," replied Susannah.
"It certainly is not pleasant that everyone should think that you walk out on purpose to be stared at, yet such is the ill-natured construction of the world, and they will never believe otherwise. It is possible, I should think, to dress with equal simplicity and neatness, to avoid gay colours, and yet to dress so as not to excite observation."
"I hardly know what to say, but that you all appear against me, and that sometimes I feel that I am too presumptuous in thus judging for myself."
"I am not against you, Susannah; I know you will do what you think is right, and I shall respect you for that, even if I disagree with you; but I must say, that if my wife were to dress in such a way as to attract the public gaze, I should feel too jealous to approve of it. I do not, therefore, blame Mr Cophagus for inducing his pretty wife to make some alteration in her attire, neither do I blame, but I commend her for obeying the wishes of her husband. Her beauty is his, and not common property."
Susannah did not reply: she appeared very thoughtful.