9. CHAPTER IX.
Containing strange matters
At his return to his lodgings, Jones found the situation of
affairs greatly altered from what they had been in at his departure.
The mother, the two daughters, and young Mr. Nightingale, were now sat
down to supper together, when the uncle was, at his own desire,
introduced without any ceremony into the company, to all of whom he
was well known; for he had several times visited his nephew at that
house.
The old gentleman immediately walked up to Miss Nancy, saluted and
wished her joy, as he did afterwards the mother and the other
sister; and lastly, he paid the proper compliments to his nephew, with
the same good humour and courtesy, as if his nephew had married his
equal or superior in fortune, with all the previous requisites first
performed.
Miss Nancy and her supposed husband both turned pale, and looked
rather foolish than otherwise upon this occasion; but Mrs. Miller took
the first opportunity of withdrawing; and, having sent for Jones
into the dining-room, she threw herself at his feet, and in a most
passionate flood of tears, called him her good angel, the preserver of
her poor little family, with many other respectful and endearing
appellations, and made him every acknowledgment which the highest
benefit can extract from the most grateful heart.
After the first gust of her passion was a little over, which she
declared, if she had not vented, would have burst her, she proceeded
to inform Mr. Jones that all matters were settled between Mr.
Nightingale and her daughter, and that they were to be married the
next morning; at which Mr. Jones having expressed much pleasure, the
poor woman fell again into a fit of joy and thanksgiving, which he
at length with difficulty silenced, and prevailed on her to return
with him back to the company, whom they found in the same good
humour in which they had left them.
This little society now past two or three very agreeable hours
together, in which the uncle, who was a very great lover of his
bottle, had so well plyed his nephew, that this latter, though not
drunk, began to be somewhat flustered; and now Mr. Nightingale, taking
the old gentleman with him upstairs into the apartment he had lately
occupied, unbosomed himself as follows:-
"As you have been always the best and kindest of uncles to me, and
as you have shown such unparalleled goodness in forgiving this
match, which to be sure may be thought a little improvident, I
should never forgive myself if I attempted to deceive you in
anything." He then confessed the truth, and opened the whole affair.
"How, Jack?" said the old gentleman, "and are you really then not
married to this young woman?" "No, upon my honour," answered
Nightingale, "I have told you the simple truth." "My dear boy,"
cries the uncle, kissing him, "I am heartily glad to hear it. I
never was better pleased in my life. If you had been married, I should
have assisted you as much as was in my power to have made the best
of a bad matter; but there is a great difference between considering a
thing which is already done and irrecoverable, and that which is yet
to do. Let your reason have fair play, Jack, and you will see this
match in so foolish and preposterous a light, that there will be no
need of any dissuasive arguments." "How, sir?" replies young
Nightingale, "is there this difference between having already done
an act, and being in honour engaged to do it?" "Pugh!" said the uncle,
"honour is a creature of the world's making, and the world hath the
power of a creator over it, and may govern and direct it as they
please. Now you well know how trivial these breaches of contract are
thought; even the grossest make but the wonder and conversation of a
day. Is there a man who afterwards will be more backward in giving you
his sister, or daughter? or is there any sister or daughter who
would be more backward to receive you? Honour is not concerned in
these engagements." "Pardon me, dear sir," cries Nightingale, "I can
never think so; and not only honour, but conscience and humanity,
are concerned. I am well satisfied, that, was I now to disappoint
the young creature, her death would be the consequence, and I should
look upon myself as her murderer; nay, as her murderer by the
cruellest of all methods, by breaking her heart." "Break her heart,
indeed! no, no, Jack," cries the uncle, "the hearts of women are not
so soon broke; they are tough, boy, they are tough." "But, sir,"
answered Nightingale, "my own affections are engaged, and I never
could be happy with any other woman. How often have I heard you say,
that children should be always suffered to chuse for themselves, and
that you would let my cousin Harriet do so?" "Why, ay," replied the
old gentleman, "so I would have them; but then I would have them chuse
wisely.- Indeed, Jack, you must and shall leave the girl."-- "Indeed,
uncle," cries the other, "I must and will have her." "You will,
young gentleman!" said the uncle; "I did not expect such a word from
you. I should not wonder if you had used such language to your father,
who hath always treated you like a dog, and kept you at the distance
which a tyrant preserves over his subjects; but I, who have lived with
you upon an equal footing, might surely expect better usage: but I
know how to account for it all: it is all owing to your preposterous
education, in which I have had too little share. There is my daughter,
now, whom I have brought up as my friend, never doth anything
without my advice, nor ever refuses to take it when I give it her."
"You have never yet given her advice in an affair of this kind,"
said Nightingale; "for I am greatly mistaken in my cousin, if she
would be very ready to obey even your most positive commands in
abandoning her inclinations." "Don't abuse my girl," answered the
old gentleman with some emotion; "don't abuse my Harriet. I have
brought her up to have no inclinations contrary to my own. By
suffering her to do whatever she pleases, I have enured her to a habit
of being pleased to do whatever I like." Pardon me, sir," said
Nightingale, "I have not the least design to reflect on my cousin, for
whom I have the greatest esteem; and indeed I am convinced you will
never put her to so severe a tryal, or lay such hard commands on her
as you would do on me.- But, dear sir, let us return to the company;
for they will begin to be uneasy at our long absence. I must beg one
favour of my dear uncle, which is that he would not say anything to
shock the poor girl or her mother." "Oh! you need not fear me,"
answered he, "I understand myself too well to affront women; so I will
readily grant you that favour; and in return I must expect another
of you." "There are but few of your commands, sir," said
Nightingale, "which I shall not very chearfully obey." "Nay, sir, I
ask nothing," said the uncle, "but the honour of your company home
to my lodging, that I may reason the case a little more fully with
you; for I would, if possible, have the satisfaction of preserving
my family, notwithstanding the headstrong folly of my brother, who, in
his opinion, is the wisest man in the world."
Nightingale, who well knew his uncle to be as headstrong as his
father, submitted to attend him home, and then they both returned back
into the room, where the old gentleman promised to carry himself
with the same decorum which he had before maintained.