University of Virginia Library

2. CHAPTER II.
OUR HERO GOES ABROAD TO FINISH HIS EDUCATION.

There was one part of Calvin's will that pleased
Stafford amazingly. “I give and bequeath the
whole of my estate, real and personal, to my
nephew Stafford Sheffield.” There was another
part that made him laugh outright—“And considering
that he was of age the day before yesterday
and having the fullest confidence in those
lessons of self-denial I have taught him, I hereby
make him my sole executor.” There was another
part that caused him to make wry faces—“Provided
that he assume the name and arms of Sopus.”

“Plague take his name, and his arms too,” quoth
Stafford—“Nobody ever heard of either of them
before. Stafford Sheffield Sopus! Gods what an
anti-climax. I must see whether it is worth my
while to make such a sacrifice.” Accordingly he
took to examining the items and there he encountered
such stocks, such mortgages, such real estates,
that his heart forthwith relented; and he
announced to Miss Angelina that he was in future
to be Mr. Sopus. “Sopus!” screamed she—but
discretion and love stopped what farther she would
have said. That unfortunate young lady, however,

underwent a severe struggle between the
name of Mrs. Sopus and the half a million. Affection
at length carried the day, and she decided
in favour of the half a million.

But it is astonishing what different views of
things people take at different times. It is like
looking through a Claude Lorraine glass, where
sunshine and shade, and twilight succeed each
other by turns. A young gentleman in expectancy,
thinks and sees very differently from a young
gentleman in possession. Besides, Stafford—
away with the vulgar name of Sopus, which we
will not allow our hero to assume until sanctioned
by the legislative authority—Besides, our hero had
no conception of the real wealth of his uncle,
neither was he actually certain of inheriting it
until it fell into his mouth. Had it been fifty, or
even a hundred thousand, he might have brought
himself to bury himself, his talents, and his money,
in the oblivion of this new world. But half a
million! It was impossible for a young man with
half a million, to set himself down quietly at
home, marry and amen! “I must first see the
world, that's settled,” quoth he.

Accordingly one beautiful moonlight evening
he paid Angelina a visit, and the prudent mother
very considerately left the young people together.
“Lovers can't resist the moon,” thought she.
“He'll certainly fix the day this night.” So
thought the young lady—but ladies old and young

are often disappointed. Our hero began—“My
beloved Angelina, suffer me to call you mine, now
that I am about”—here the young lady thought
it was certainly coming—“now that I am about
leaving you for a time, a year perhaps—an age to
those who love like me.”

“Leave me!” exclaimed she, in great surprise.

“Yes, my own Angelina, I am going to make
myself worthy of you and of the happiness to
which I aspire. I am going to see the world and
finish my education, which I am sorry to say has
been greatly neglected.”

“You know best,” answered the gentle Angelina,
“but you had better talk to mamma,” and she
was rising to ring the bell.

“O no, don't, for heaven's sake!” cried friend
Sopus, “I can't bear to have the mysteries of our
love developed. I will write to your mother from
the Hook. Adieu! my best beloved—think of
me, write to me, and never forget me. I go to
return more worthy of thy love.” So saying, he
darted out of the room in an agony of grief.

“What shall I do—what shall I do,” cried Angelina,
as her mother entered the room.

“You'd better make friends with the young
broker again,” answered the discreet mother.

“But perhaps,” cried the daughter, “perhaps
he'll fulfil his vows after he has finished his learning.”

“Pooh, girl, you talk like a simpleton.”

“If I were a widow, I dare say I should know
better,” answered Angelina in a sulky whisper.

Our hero was sorry, very sorry, that he was under
the necessity of going abroad and finishing his
education; but his sorrow diminished with the
distance from home. As he lost sight of the
Highlands of Neversink, the figure of the gentle
Angelina become dim. When he got to the
Banks of Newfoundland, and caught such a plenty
of cod-fish, it became indistinct, and by the time
he got to the English coast, it had almost entirely
disappeared. He came to England with his
pockets full of money, and I advise every body not
to go there without it. They will neither get good
eating nor good manners. He went to a fox chase,
and wonderful to relate, came back pefectly cured of
his love. Accordingly the next morning he despatched
a letter to Angelina, informing her that he had
been at a fox chase, and that the superior transports of
that noble amusement had satisfactorily convinced
him there was something in the world he loved
better than his adored Angelina. This being the
case, as a man of honour, he was bound to release
her from her engagement, which he now did, wishing
she was only a man, that she might unite
with him in the pleasures of fox hunting. Three
weeks after the receipt of this letter, Angelina
married the broker.