‘Exactly so, Martyn,’ he answered.
’Impressions fade, and the intellect fails
to accept them. But I do not think that is my
motive. We know that a wicked deed was done
by our ancestor, and we hardly have the right to
pray, “Remember not the sins of our forefathers,”
unless, now that we know the crime, we attempt what
restitution in us lies.’
There was no resisting after this appeal, and after
the first shock, my mother was ready to admit that
as Clarence owed everything to Mr. Castleford, he
could not well desert the firm, if it were really
needful for its welfare that he should go out.
We got her to look on Mr. Castleford as captain
of the ship, and Clarence as first lieutenant; and
when she was once convinced that he did not want to
aggrandise the family, but to do his duty, she dropped
her objections; and we soon saw that the occupations
that his absence would impose on her would be a fresh
interest in life.
Just as the decision was thus ratified, a packet from
Canton arrived for Clarence from Bristol. It
was the first reply of young Frith to the tidings
of the bequest which had changed the poor clerk to
a wealthy man, owning a large proportion of the shares
of the prosperous house.
I asked if he were coming home, and Clarence briefly
replied that he did not know,—’it
depended—’
‘Is he going to wed a fair Chinese with lily
feet?’ asked Martyn, to which the reply was
an unusually discourteous ‘Bosh,’ as Clarence
escaped with his letter. He was so reticent
about it that I required a solemn assurance that
poor Lawrence’s head had not been turned by
his fortune, and that there was nothing wrong with
him. Indeed, there was great stupidity in never
guessing the purport of that thick letter, nor that
it contained one for Emily, where Lawrence Frith
laid himself, and all that he had, at her feet, ascribing
to her all the resolution with which he had kept from
evil, and entreating permission to come home and
endeavour to win her heart. We lived so constantly
together that it is surprising that Clarence contrived
to give the letter to Emily in private. She
implored him to say nothing to us, and brought him
the next day her letter of uncompromising refusal.
He asked whether it would have been the same if he
had intended to remain at home.
‘As if you were a woman, you conceited fellow,’
was all the answer she vouchsafed him.
Nor could he ascertain, nor perhaps would she herself
examine, on which side lay her heart of hearts.
The proof had come whether she would abide by her
pledge to him to accept the care of us in his absence.
When he asked it, it had not occurred to him that
it might be a renunciation of marriage. Now
he perceived that so it had been, but she kept her
counsel and so did he. We others never guessed
at what was going on between those two.
