Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 394: what you’re looking at

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

JOSEPH WILMOT$; OR, THD “Step this way,” Isaid: and I conducted her to the vearest unoccupied room. When we were alone together, I looked her very hard in the face; and I said, “ Do you know me?” ““I presume I have the honour of speaking to the Earl of Eccleston,” she responded, half-bewil- dered by my question: “ but I never to my know ledge beheld your lordship before.” “Tf I am about to make a revelation unto you,” I said, “it is from no motive of idle vanity—much less to have the appearance of triumphing over one who is fallen in the world. On the contrary, it is my intention to give you some little relief: though as for receiving you into this house, it is impossible. My object is to convince you that there are people in the world who can return good for evil x She stared at me with a stupid astonishment: it was still evident that she was utterly unsus- picious of the fact I was about to reveal to her. “Your name,” I said, “is Dakin—and you were once companion to Lady Georgiana Tiverton at Myrtle Lodge.” “Yes—it was so, my lord!’ she answered, be- coming troubled. “But you, my lord No, it can’t be! it is impossible !”—and there was a wild surprise in her looks, “It is utterly out of the question !” “Tt is as you begin to suspect,’ I said. “In me you behold that same Joseph Wilmot whom —— But I will not torture you by reference to the past No, nor did I mean this!” For the unhappy woman had sunk down with a stifled scream at my feet; and there she began weeping and sobbing piteously. “ Rise,’ I said; “rise! I will not reproach you. I see that you have suffered enough from the adversities which have overtaken you. As for inyself, I may entertain the hope that all the cala- mities of my life are past. Heaven, you see, is just!” Miss Dakin rose up from her suppliant posture: ‘but some minutes elapsed before she could in any way tranquillize herself. She besought my for- giveness for her vile wicked conduct of a past period ; and I assured her that she was forgiven. I then thrust a bank-note into her hand, and bade her take her departure. She dried her tears; and with renewed expressions of gratitude as well as of contrition, she went away. I never saw her afterwards, nor heard of her again. A few days subsequent to this incident a card was one afternoon placed in my hand: and I read the name of Sir Alexander Carrondale. I flew to the drawing-room to which Sir Alexander had been shown; and I found that his wife was with him. Delighted were they both to see me: de- lighted was I also to see them. I had previously received letters from them congratulating me on my change of position; and now they verbally re- newed those congratulations. I inquired after Mr. Duncansby, and learnt that he was expected in . London in a few days. Next I inquired after the Chief of Inch Methgiin,—when Sir Alexander re- plied, “ The Chief and Lennox are already in Lon- don: they arrived with us yesterday. They only await your permission, my dear Lord Eccleston, to pay their respects to you.” “Nay,” I responded, “it is for me to go and call upon the Chief first—and this I will do with. | MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. 381 out delay. I will engage him and his son to dine with me to-morrow. You and her ladyship must be of the party: my mother the Countes will be delighted to receive you. We have several friends staying with us; and I need hardly say that Sir Alexander and Lady Carrondale will not be the leaat honoured amongst them.” The invitation was accepted ; and before the Baro- net and his wife took their departure on the present occasion, I introduced them to my mother. Then, ere I set out to the hotel where the Chief of Inch Methglin and Mr. Lennox Vennachar were staying, I penned a note of invitation to leave for them in case they should not be at home. Nor were they: I therefore left my card and the note, and returned to Manchester Square. As I was alighting from the carriage, whom should I behold with his hand upon the knocker but Dominie Clackmannan. I greeted him warmly; and from amidst the mass of stolidities to which he began giving utterance, I gathered the intelligence that his wife, the late Widow Glenbucket—now Mrs. Clackmannan of Clackmannanauchnish—was passing a few weeks with some friends in a midland county: so that the Dominie had resolved to come on to London, to see Saltcoats and myself. I bade him make my house his home, and at once sent a domestic te fetch the Dominie’s carpet-bag from the hotel where he had left it. The Dominie accordingly became an- other amongst the guests assembled at this time at Eccleston House. His meeting with Saltcoats was perfectly characteristic: for although they had known each other for years—and, as the reader has perceived, had been bosom-friends—yet did Mr. Clackmannan mistake him first of all for the Baillie Owlhead—next greet ihm as the Laird of Tintosquashdale—and then, on eventually being convinced it was he, Saltcoats himself, the Dominie began wondering whether it were ten or twenty years since last they met. To the guests generally the worthy old gentleman was an object of much amusement: but for my sake, as well as on ac- count of his own good nature, he experienced the utmost kindness. On the following day, punctual to the hour named in my note, the Chief of Inch Methglin and his son Mr. Lennox Vennachar arrived at the mansion. Though nearly four years had passed since I last saw the Chief, the lapse of time appeared not to have made the slightest alteration in his aspect. He was now in his sixty-fourth year: but his form was perfectly upright,—that fine tall form which had so much dignity in its car- riage! His complexion was as florid as ever—his teeth as well preserved : his dark eyes had not lost their brightness. How well did I remember that haughtily handsome profile, and that look in which the pride of birth would have amounted to arro- gance, were it not attempered by the feelings of the polished gentleman. Lennox was now about twenty-seven years of age; and setting aside the disparity of years, as well as the greyness of the hair on the part of the Chief, he was the exact likeness of his father. **T am glad to have the honour of paying my personal respects to the LHarl of Eccleston,” said the Chief, advancing towards me, and courteously proffering his hand. ‘ Your lordship bears a very old and honourable title, and one to which you yourself do honour,” E|N\@O) S (C©)