2. CHAPTER II.
The generous and grateful behaviour of Mrs. Miller
Mr. Allworthy and Mrs. Miller were just sat down to breakfast,
when Blifil, who had gone out very early that morning, returned to
make one of the company.
He had not been long seated before he began as follows: "Good
Lord! my dear uncle, what do you think hath happened? I vow I am
afraid of telling it you, for fear of shocking you with the
remembrance of ever having shewn any kindness to such a villain."
"What is the matter, child?" said the uncle. "I fear I have shown
kindness in my life to the unworthy more than once. But charity doth
not adopt the vices of its objects." "O, sir!" returned Blifil, "it
is not without the secret direction of Providence that you mention the
word adoption. Your adopted son, sir, that Jones, that wretch whom you
nourished in your bosom, hath proved one of the greatest villains upon
earth." "By all that's sacred, 'tis false," cries Mrs. Miller. "Mr.
Jones is no villain. He is one of the worthiest creatures breathing;
and if any other person had called him villain, I would have thrown
all this boiling water in his face." Mr. Allworthy looked very much
amazed at this behaviour. But she did not give him leave to speak,
before, turning to him, she cried, "I hope you will not be angry
with me; I would not offend you, sir, for the world; but, indeed, I
could not bear to hear him called so." "I must own, madam," said
Allworthy, very gravely, "I am a little surprized to hear you so
warmly defend a fellow you do not know." "O! I do know him, Mr.
Allworthy," said she, "indeed I do; I should be the most ungrateful of
all wretches if I denied it. O! he hath preserved me and my little
family; we have all reason to bless him while we live.- And I pray
Heaven to bless him, and turn the hearts of his malicious enemies. I
know, I find, I see, he hath such." "You surprize me, madam, still
more," said Allworthy; "sure you must mean some other. It is
impossible you should have any such obligations to the man my nephew
mentions." "Too surely," answered she, "I have obligations to him of
the greatest and tenderest kind. He hath been the preserver of me
and mine. Believe me, sir, he hath been abused, grossly abused to you;
I know he hath, or you, whom I know to be all goodness and honour,
would not, after the many kind and tender things I have heard you
say of this poor helpless child, have so disdainfully called him
fellow.- Indeed, my best of friends, he deserves a kinder appellation
from you, had you heard the good, the kind, the grateful things
which I have heard him utter of you. He never mentions your name but
with a sort of adoration. In this very room I have seen him on his
knees, imploring all the blessings of heaven upon your head. I do
not love that child there better than he loves you."
"I see, sir, now," said Blifil, with one of those grinning sneers
with which the devil marks his best beloved, "Mrs. Miller really
doth know him. I suppose you will find she is not the only one of your
acquaintance to whom he hath exposed you. As for my character, I
perceive, by some hints she hath thrown out, he hath been very free
with it, but I forgive him." "And the Lord forgive you, sir!" said
Mrs. Miller; "we have all sins enough to stand in need of his
forgiveness."
"Upon my word, Mrs. Miller," said Allworthy, "I do not take this
behaviour of yours to my nephew kindly; and I do assure you, as any
reflections which you cast upon him must come only from that wickedest
of men, they would only serve, if that were possible, to heighten my
resentment against him: for I must tell you, Mrs. Miller, the young
man who now stands before you hath ever been the warmest advocate
for the ungrateful wretch whose cause you espouse. This, I think, when
you hear it from my own mouth, will make you wonder at so much
baseness and ingratitude."
"You are deceived, sir," answered Mrs. Miller; "if they were the
last words which were to issue from my lips, I would say you were
deceived; and I once more repeat it, the Lord forgive those who have
deceived you! I do not pretend to say the young man is without faults;
but they are all the faults of wildness and of youth; faults which
he may, nay, which I am certain he will, relinquish, and, if he should
not, they are vastly overbalanced by one of the most humane, tender,
honest hearts that ever man was blest with."
"Indeed, Mrs. Miller," said Allworthy, "had this been related of
you, I should not have believed it." "Indeed, sir," answered she, "you
will believe everything I have said, I am sure you will: and when
you have heard the story which I shall tell you (for I will tell you
all), you will be so far from being offended, that you will own (I
know your justice so well), that I must have been the most
despicable and most ungrateful of wretches if I had acted any other
part than I have."
"Well, madam," said Allworthy, "I shall be very glad to hear any
good excuse for a behaviour which, I must confess, I think wants an
excuse. And now, madam, will you be pleased to let my nephew proceed
in his story without interruption. He would not have introduced a
matter of slight consequence with such a preface. Perhaps even this
story will cure you of your mistake."
Mrs. Miller gave tokens of submission, and then Mr. Blifil began
thus: "I am sure, sir, if you don't think proper to resent the
ill-usage of Mrs. Miller, I shall easily forgive what affects me only.
I think your goodness hath not deserved this indignity at her
hands." "Well, child," said Allworthy, "but what is this new instance?
What hath he done of late?" "What," cries Blifil, "notwithstanding all
Mrs. Miller hath said, I am very sorry to relate, and what you
should never have heard from me, had it not been a matter impossible
to conceal from the whole world. In short, he hath killed a man; I
will not say murdered- for perhaps it may not be so construed in law,
and I hope the best for his sake."
Allworthy looked shocked, and blessed himself; and then, turning
to Mrs. Miller, he cried, "Well, madam, what say you now?"
"Why, I say, sir," answered she, "that I never was more concerned at
anything in my life; but, if the fact be true, I am convinced the man,
whoever he is, was in fault. Heaven knows there are many villains in
this town who make it their business to provoke young gentlemen.
Nothing but the greatest provocation could have tempted him; for of
all the gentlemen I ever had in my house, I never saw one so gentle or
so sweet-tempered. He was beloved by everyone in the house, and
every one who came near it."
While she was thus running on, a violent knocking at the door
interrupted their conversation, and prevented her from proceeding
further, or from receiving any answer; for, as she concluded this
was a visitor to Mr. Allworthy, she hastily retired, taking with her
her little girl, whose eyes were all over blubbered at the
melancholy news she heard of Jones, who used to call her his little
wife, and not only gave her many playthings, but spent whole hours
in playing with her himself.
Some readers may, perhaps, be pleased with these minute
circumstances, in relating of which we follow the example of Plutarch,
one of the best of our brother historians; and others, to whom they
may appear trivial, will, we hope, at least pardon them, as we are
never prolix on such occasions.