Treats of apologies,
and love coming from church—We finesse with
the nabob to win me
a wife—I am successful in my suit, yet the
lawyer is still to play
the cards to enable me to win the game.
I arrived at Mr Masterton’s, and walked into
his room, when whom should I find in company with
him but Harcourt.
“Japhet, I’m glad to see you: allow
me to introduce you to Mr Harcourt—Mr De
Benyon,” and the old gentleman grinned maliciously,
but I was not to be taken aback.
“Harcourt,” said I, extending my hand,
“I have to apologise to you for a rude reception
and for unjust suspicions, but I was vexed at the
time—if you will admit that as an excuse.”
“My dear Japhet,” replied Harcourt, taking
my hand and shaking it warmly, “I have to apologise
to you for much more unworthy behaviour, and it will
be a great relief to my mind if you will once more
enrol me in the list of your friends.”
“And now, Mr Masterton,” said I, “as
apologies appear to be the order of the day, I bring
you one from the general, who has requested me to make
one to you for having called you an old thief of a
lawyer, of which he was totally ignorant until I reminded
him of it to-day.”
Harcourt burst into a laugh.
“Well, Japhet, you may tell your old tiger,
that I did not feel particularly affronted, as I took
his expression professionally and not personally,
and if he meant it in that sense, he was not far wrong.
Japhet, to-morrow is Sunday; do you go to meeting or
to church?”
“I believe, sir, that I shall go to church.”
“Well, then, come with me:—be here
at half-past two—we will go to evening
service at St James’s.”
“I have received many invitations, but I never
yet received an invitation to go to church,”
replied I.
“You will hear an extra lesson of the day—a
portion of Susannah and the Elders.”
I took the equivoque, which was incomprehensible to
Harcourt: I hardly need say, that the latter
and I were on the best terms. When we separated,
Harcourt requested leave to call upon me the next morning,
and Mr Masterton said that he should also pay his respects
to the tiger, as he invariably called my most honoured
parent.
Harcourt was with me very soon after breakfast, and
after I had introduced him to my “Governor,”
we retired to talk without interruption.
“I have much to say to you, De Benyon,”
commenced Harcourt: “first let me tell
you, that after I rose from my bed, and discovered
that you had disappeared, I resolved, if possible,
to find you out and induce you to come back.
Timothy, who looked very sly at me, would tell me nothing,
but that the last that was heard of you was at Lady
de Clare’s, at Richmond. Having no other
clue, I went down there, introduced myself, and, as
they will tell you, candidly acknowledged that I had
treated you ill. I then requested that they would
give me any clue by which you might be found, for
I had an opportunity of offering to you a situation
which was at my father’s disposal, and which
any gentleman might have accepted, although it was
not very lucrative.”
