The Mysteries of London, Vol. IV — page 124: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE MYSTEREES OF LONDON. abruptly broke; “and wherefore have you not per- formed your duty in all things? Duty, indeed! But know, father, that there are other duties to falfil than merely playing the part of a spy on your son’s actions: —there are such duties as giving him his proper name —allowing him to assume his just rights—and placing him in that social position which he ought to occupy! You menace me with the loss of fortune, father ?— Oh! you know how vain and ridiculous is this threat —and how if aggravates the wickedness of all your former conduct towards me! [ am no longer a child to be held in leading-strings—no longer a silly senti- mentalist who, through maudlin and mawkish feelings of a false delicacy, will consent to have my nearest and dearest interests trampled upon—my privileges alto- gether withheld—my rights cruelly denied me! You have played the mysterious too long,—you have enacted the cruel and unnatural until endurance has become impossible ;—-and now you would assume the part of the absolute dictator—expecting to find me still a pliant, docile, grovelling slave,— without spirit — without courage—without even the common feelings of a man! But you are mistaken, father:—and if 1 have thus been driven to tell you my mind, you have only your- self to reproach, for so‘distressing—so painful a scene !” Thus speaking,—and before his father had so far recovered from the amazement into which this volley of words threw him, as to be able even to stretch out a hand to retain him,—Charles seized his hat, and rushed from the room. In less than a minute the front-docr of the house closed behind him; and he hurried on, like one de- mented, to Suffolk Street. But before we accompany him thither, we must pause to explain the effect which this scene had upon his father. Indeed, Mr. Hatfield was struck with an astonish- ment so profound—a bewilderment so complete, that his heart seemed asif it were numbed against pain. He could not comprehend the drift of Charles’s pas- sionate address,—otherwise than hy supposing that the young man required to be recognised as a son, and notasanephew. Forit did not—as, in fact, it could not—for a single moment enter Mr. HWatfield’s head that Charles had discovered all the occurrences of former years, and that he had thence drawn the false and fatal inference that he—this same infatuated young man—was the heir to the proud title and vast estates of the Earldom of Ellingham. He therefore saw in his son’s conduct only the rebellious spirit of an individual who, having formed a connexion of which he was most likely ashamed and which he knew to be improper, endeavoured to meet his parents’ re- proaches with recriminations, and seize upon the least shadow of an excuse or pretext for resisting the paternal authority. When reflection thus diminished the wonderment which Mr. Hatfield experienced at the behaviour of the young man, pain and sorrow succeeded that first feeling. Indeed, the unhappy father was cruelly em- barrassed: he knew not how to act. Charles was of that age when,—even did circumstances permit Mr. Hatfield to acknowledge that he really was his son,— no legal authority could be exercised, nor constraint practised; and he felt assured that any farther at- tempt to interfere with him in the connexion which he had formed, would only aggravate the irritability of the wrong-headed young man. ‘hen again, it was impossible to abandon him thus tc courses which might hurry him on to utter rnin ;— 117 and moreover, the Lady Frances Ellingham had been so cruelly trifled with, that an explanation with her parents became absolutely necessary. Now was it that Mr. Hatfield cursed the hour when he had been induced to leave Italy, and return to England on this visit to his half-brother—a visit which the Earl had by letter urged him to pay, and to which he had assented in full confidence of the complete safety of the step. Bewildered with the variety of his conflicting thoughts, and feeling the necessity as well as recog- nising the propriety of consulting the Earl, Mr. Hat- field repaired to the library, whence he despatched a message to the nobleman requesting his lordship to join him there as speedily as nossible:—for it still wanted upwards of half-an-hour to the usual break- fast time. The Earl of Ellingham was just issuing from his chamber when the message was delivered to him ; and, immediately apprehending sume evil news, he hastened to the library, where he found his half-brother pacing up and down in an agitated manner. Mr. Hatfield, without any disguise, hesitation, or circumlocution, immediately unfolded to the Earl all that had taken place, both on that and the preceding day, in respect to Charles ;—and Arthur listened with emotions of mingled pain, astonishment, and appre- hension. “ Nuch as it would have delighted me,’ he at length observed, “ to witness the union of my daughter and your son, Thomas, I cannot for a moment recom- mend that the young man’s inclinations should be forced. Such an union seemed necessary—almost im- periously necessary under the peculiar circumstances in which we areplaced. While you, the elder brother, renounce the title which is your just right—TI, the younger one, have Jong borne if and bear it still ;— though, heaven knows that I value if indeed but little——-However,” added the Karl, interrupting him- self hastily,— I was about to observe that, situated as we thus are, it appears but natural and proper that your son should receive a positive and acknowledged admission into the family by means of an alliance with my daughter. And she, poor girl—she loves him,” continued the nobleman, his voice faltering; “and he has actedunwisely—to use no harsher term— in declaring an attachment which he docs not feel, and making a proposal which he cannot accomplish.” “YT am at a loss how to act!” said Mr. Hatfield. “My God!” he cried, in a tone expressive of deep feeling, ‘am I ever to be the means of giving annoy- ance and yexation to you, my dear Arthur,—you, who have been so kind and generous a friend to me? ” “Not on this account must you distress yourself, Thomas,” returned the Earl, emphatically: “ you are not responsible for the wayward humours of your son. But surely this sudden manifestation of a rebellions disposition on his part, cannot arise wholly and solely from the connexion which you believe him to have formed. Have you enquired concerning the character of the women—the mother and daughter—whom he visits in Suffolk-street? ” “No: I contented myself with ascertaining that at the nouse which [ saw him enter, there is a young lady of very extraordinary beauty.” « And are you convinced that Charles nas learnt no- thing relative to the events of former years—nothing calculated to diminish-——” “TY understand you, Arthur,” said Mr. Hatfield, see- ing that his half-brother hesitated: “ you would ask tee hte ome Oe SE eee (C(O) DOO SS (SO)