CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
A CLIMAX IS REACHED.
When Edgar Berrington discovered the cottage by the sea, and ascertainedthat Miss Pritty was within, he gave his name, and was ushered into thesnug little room under the name of Mr Briggington. Aileen gave aparticularly minute, but irrepressible and quite inaudible scream; MrHazlit sat bolt up in his chair, as if he had seen a ghost; and MissPritty--feeling, somehow, that her diplomacy had not become a brilliantsuccess--shrank within herself, and wished it were to-morrow.
Their various expressions, however, were as nothing compared withEdgar's blazing surprise.
"Mr Hazlit," he stammered, "pray pardon my sudden intrusion at sounseasonable an hour; but, really, I was not aware that--did you not getmy telegram, aunt?"
He turned abruptly to Miss Pritty.
"Why ye-es, but I thought that you--in fact--I could not imagine that--"
"Never mind explanations just now," said Mr Hazlit, recovering himself,and rising with a bland smile, "you are welcome, Mr Berrington; no houris unseasonable for one to whom we owe so much."
They shook hands and laughed; then Edgar shook hands with Aileen andblushed, no doubt because _she_ blushed, then he saluted his aunt, andtook refuge in being very particular about her receipt of the telegram.This threw Miss Pritty into a state of unutterable confusion, because ofher efforts to tell the truth and conceal the truth at one and the sametime. After this they spent a very happy evening together, during thecourse of which Mr Hazlit took occasion to ask Edgar to accompany himinto a little pigeon-hole of a room which, in deference to a few booksthat dwelt there, was styled the library.
"Mr Berrington," he said, sitting down and pointing to a chair, "beseated. I wish to have a little private conversation with you. We areboth practical men, and know the importance of thoroughly understandingeach other. When I saw you last--now about two years ago--you indicatedsome disposition to--to regard--in fact to pay your addresses to mydaughter. At that time I objected to you on the ground that you werepenniless. Whether right or wrong in that objection is now a matter ofno importance, because it turns out that I was right on other grounds,as I now find that you did not know your own feelings, and did not carefor her--"
"Did not _care_ for her?" interrupted Edgar, in sudden amazement, notunmingled with indignation.
"Of course," continued Mr Hazlit, with undisturbed calmness, "I meanthat you did not care for her sufficiently; that you did not regard herwith that unconquerable affection which is usually styled `love', andwithout which no union can be a happy one. The proof to me that yourfeeling towards her was evanescent, lies in the fact that you have takenno notice either of her or of me for two years. Had you gained mydaughter's affections, this might have caused me deep regret, but as shehas seldom mentioned your name since we last saw you, save when Ihappened to refer to you, I perceive that her heart has been untouched--for which I feel exceedingly thankful, knowing as I do, only too well,that we cannot command our affections."
Mr Hazlit paused a moment, and Edgar was so thunderstruck by theunexpected nature of his host's discourse, that he could only stare athim in mute surprise and unbelief in the evidence of his own ears.
"Now," resumed Mr Hazlit, "as things stand, I shall be very happyindeed that we should return to our old intimacy. I can never forgetthe debt of obligation we owe to you as our rescuer from worse thandeath--from slavery among brutalised men, and I shall be very happyindeed that you should make my little cottage by the sea--as Aileenloves to style it--your abode whenever business or pleasure call you tothis part of the country."
The merchant extended his hand with a smile of genuine urbanity. Theyouth took it, mechanically shook it, let it fall, and continued tostare in a manner that made Mr Hazlit feel quite uneasy. Suddenly herecovered, and, looking the latter earnestly in the face, said:--
"Mr Hazlit, did you not, two years ago, forbid me to enter yourdwelling?"
"True, true," replied the other somewhat disconcerted; "but the eventswhich have occurred since that time warranted your considering thatorder as cancelled."
"But you did not _say_ it was cancelled. Moreover your first objectionstill remained, for I was nearly penniless then, although, in the goodprovidence of God, I am comparatively rich now. I therefore resolved toobey your injunctions, sir, and keep away from your house and from yourdaughter's distracting influence, until I could return with a few ofthose pence, which you appear to consider so vitally important."
"Mr Berrington," exclaimed the old gentleman, who was roused by thishit, "you mistake me. My opinions in regard to wealth have beenconsiderably changed of late. But my daughter does not love you, and ifyou were as rich as Croesus, sir, you should not have her hand withouther heart."
Mr Hazlit said this stoutly, and, just as stoutly, Edgar replied:--
"If I were as rich as Croesus, sir, I would not _accept_ her handwithout her heart; but, Mr Hazlit, I am richer than Croesus!"
"What do you mean, sir?"
"I mean that I am rich in the possession of that which a world's wealthcould not purchase--your daughter's affections."
"Impossible! Mr Berrington, your passion urges you to deceiveyourself."
"You will believe what she herself says, I suppose?" asked Edgar,plunging his hand into a breast-pocket.
"Of course I will."
"Well then, listen," said the youth, drawing out a small three-cornerednote. "A good many months ago, when I found my business to be in asomewhat flourishing condition, I ventured to write to Aileen, tellingher of my circumstances, of my unalterable love, and expressing a wishthat she would write me at least one letter to give me hope that thelove, which she, allowed me to _understand_ was in her breast _before_you forbade our intercourse, still continued. This," he added, handingthe three-cornered note to the old gentleman, "is her reply."
Mr Hazlit took the note, and, with a troubled countenance, read:--
"Dear Mr Berrington,--I am not sure that I am right in replying to you without my father's knowledge, and only prevail on myself to do so because I intend that our correspondence shall go no further, and what I shall say will, I know, be in accordance with his sentiments. My feelings towards you remain unchanged. We cannot command feelings, but I consider the duty I owe to my dear father to be superior to my feelings, and I am resolved to be guided by his expressed wishes as long as I remain under his roof. He has forbidden me to have any intercourse with you: I will therefore obey until he sanctions a change of conduct. Even this brief note should not have been written were it not that it would be worse than rude to take no notice of a letter from one who has rendered us such signal service, and whom I shall never forget.--Yours sincerely, Aileen Hazlit."
The last sentence--"and whom I shall never forget"--had been carefullyscribbled out, but Edgar had set himself to work, with the care andearnest application of an engineer and a lover, to decipher the words.
"Dear child!" exclaimed Mr Hazlit, in a fit of abstraction, kissing thenote; "this accounts for her never mentioning him;" then, recoveringhimself, and turning abruptly and sternly to Edgar, he said:--"How didyou dare, sir, to write to her after my express prohibition?"
"Well," replied Edgar, "some allowance ought to be made for a lover'sanxiety to know how matters stood, and I fully intended to follow up myletter to her with one to you; but I confess that I did wrong--"
"No, sir, no," cried Mr Hazlit, abruptly starting up and graspingEdgar's hand, which he shook violently, "you did _not_ do wrong. Youdid quite right, sir. I would have done the same myself in similarcircumstances."
So saying, Mr Hazlit, feeling that he was compromising his dignity,shook Edgar's hand again, and hastened from the room. He met Aileendescending the staircase. Brushing past her, he went into his bed-room,and shut and locked the door.
Much alarmed by such an unwonted display of haste and feeling, Aileenran into the library.
"Oh! Mr Berrington, what _is_ the matter with papa?"
"If you will sit down beside me, Aileen," said Edgar, earnestly,tenderly, and firmly, taking her hand, "I will tell you."
Aileen blushed, stammered, attempted to draw back, but was constrainedto comply. Edgar, on the contrary, was as cool as a cucumber. He hadevidently availed himself of his engineering knowledge, and fitted extraweights of at least seven thousand tons to the various safety-valves ofhis feelings.
"Your father," he began, looking earnestly into the girl's down-castface, "is--"
But hold! Reader; we must not go on. If you are a boy, you won't mindwhat followed; if a girl, you have no right to pry into such matters.We therefore beg leave at this point to shut the lids of our dexter eye,and drop the curtain.