"Who are those ladies?" asked the apothecary, looking complacently down upon the sovereign the elder lady had slipped into his hand.
"I was just going to ask that question of you," said I.
"How! not know them--and let them go away without inquiring their names! Arn"t you a simple young fellow? If it had been me now, I should have done my best to improve such a golden opportunity. Grat.i.tude you know begets love, and I"ll be sworn that the pretty young woman has a good fortune, by the anxiety the old one felt in her behalf."
I was in the maddest heroics of love. "What do I care about her property," said I disdainfully. "Such a beautiful, elegant creature is a fortune in herself."
"Yes--to those who have enough of their own. But my dear young sir, beauty won"t boil the pot."
To joke me at the expense of the beautiful unknown was sacrilege, and casting upon my tormentor, a look of unmitigated contempt, I left the shop with a lofty step, and an air of offended dignity.
As I pa.s.sed into the street, I fancied that the term "ridiculous puppy!" was hissed after me.
I strode back into the shop. The apothecary was waiting upon a new customer.
"Was that insult intended for me?" I demanded, in a haughty tone.
"What did I say, Sir?"
"You called me a ridiculous puppy," said I.
"You are mistaken, young man. I am not in the habit of speaking my thoughts aloud."
I deserved this cut for my folly, and felt keenly that I had placed myself in an absurd position.
"My uncle is right," said I, to myself, as I retraced my steps to Hatton Garden. "I am a babe in my knowledge of the world. I must go more into society, or I shall for ever be getting into such ridiculous sc.r.a.pes."
At dinner my uncle met me with a serious face.
"What kept you from the office, Geoffrey, this morning?"
I, willing to act openly with him, narrated to him the adventure I had met with.
"I think I know the lady," said he. "She is not very tall--is fair complexioned, with blue eyes and light brown hair. _Rather_ pretty than otherwise."
"_Rather_ pretty. She is _beautiful_, Sir."
"Phew!" said Mr. Moncton. "_We_ see with other eyes. Young men are always blind. The girl is well enough--and better still, she is very rich. Did she tell you her name?"
"I did not ask her."
"Where was your curiosity?"
"I wished very much to put the question, for I was anxious to know; but really, uncle, I had not the face to do it. But you can tell me."
"If she did not tell you herself, I am not going to betray her secret.
What use would the knowledge be to you?"
"It would be pleasant to know her name."
My uncle looked hard at me; and something like a sarcastic smile pa.s.sed over his lips.
"Boy, it would render you miserable."
"In what way?"
"By leading you to neglect business, and by filling your head with hopes which could never be realized."
"And why not?" I demanded, rather fiercely.
"Young ladies in our days seldom commit matrimony with penniless clerks."
This was said with a strong sneer.
"It may be so--and they are right not to involve themselves in misery.
I am penniless at present. But that is no reason that I am always to remain so. I am young, healthy, industrious, with a mind willing and able to work--why should I not make a fortune as others have done? As my grandfather, for instance, did before me?"
"This is all true," said he, calmly, "and I admire your spirit, Geoffrey; but, nephew" (this was the first time I ever remember his calling me so), "there are other difficulties in the way of your making a high and wealthy alliance, of which you have no idea."
I know not why--but a sudden tremor seized me as he said this. But mastering my agitation, I begged him to explain his meaning.
"I have long wished to do so," said he, "but you were so violent and unreasonable, that I thought it prudent to defer unpleasant communications until you were older, and better able to take things calmly. You have thought me a hard task-master, Geoffrey--a cruel unfeeling tyrant, and from your earliest childhood have defied my authority and resisted my will; yet you know not half the debt of kindness you owe to me."
I was about to speak. He held up his hand for me to maintain silence; which I did with a very bad grace; and he continued in the same cold methodical way--
"Children are naturally averse to control, and are unable to discern between sternness of manner, and a cold unfeeling hardness of heart; and construe into insults and injuries the necessary restraint imposed upon their actions for their good. Yours, I admit, was a painful situation, which you rendered still more unpleasant by your obstinate and resentful disposition."
"But, uncle!" I exclaimed, unable longer to hold my tongue, "you know I was treated very ill."
"Who treated you so? I am very certain, that Rebecca indulged you, as she never did one of her own children."
"My dear aunt! G.o.d bless her! she was the only creature in the house who treated me with the least kindness. The very servants were instructed to slight and insult me by your _amiable_ son, and his servile tutor."
"He was a fool," said Mr. Moncton, refilling his gla.s.s. "As to Theophilus, it was natural for him to dislike the lad who had robbed him of his mother"s affections, and who left him behind in his lessons.
You were strong enough, and bold enough to take your own part, and if I mistake not, did take it. And pray, Sir, who was it that freed you from the tyranny of Mr. Jones, when he found that the complaints you brought against him were just?"
"But not until after I had been first condemned, and brutally maltreated. The less said on that score, uncle, the better."
He laughed--his low, sarcastic, sneering laugh, but did not choose to be angry.
"There are circ.u.mstances connected with your birth, Geoffrey, that evidently were the cause of these slights. People will not pay the same respect to a natural child, which they do to a legitimate one."
"Good G.o.d!" I exclaimed, starting from my chair. "You don"t mean to insinuate--you dare not say, that I am a b.a.s.t.a.r.d?"
"Such is the fact."
"It is a falsehood! invented to ruin me!" I exclaimed, defiantly. "One of these days you shall be forced to prove it such."