Part 4 (1/2)
”It cannot be helped,” said Mr. Perkins, looking as much like a martyr as he possibly could, and thinking himself a very fine fellow. ”I have talents, sir, which I hope to cultivate; and am member of a profession by which a man may hope to rise to the very highest offices of the State.”
”Profession, talents, offices of the State! Are you mad, John Perkins, that you come to me with such insufferable twaddle as this? Why, do you think if you HAD been capable of rising at the bar, I would have taken so much trouble about getting you a place? No, sir; you are too fond of pleasure, and bed, and tea-parties, and small-talk, and reading novels, and playing the flute, and writing sonnets. You would no more rise at the bar than my messenger, sir. It was because I knew your disposition--that hopeless, careless, irresolute good-humour of yours--that I had determined to keep you out of danger, by placing you in a snug shelter, where the storms of the world would not come near you. You must have principles forsooth! and you must marry Miss Gorgon, of course: and by the time you have gone ten circuits, and had six children, you will have eaten up every s.h.i.+lling of your wife's fortune, and be as briefless as you are now. Who the deuce has put all this nonsense into your head? I think I know.”
Mr. Perkins's ears tingled as these hard words saluted them; and he scarcely knew whether he ought to knock his uncle down, or fall at his feet and say, ”Uncle, I have been a fool, and I know it.” The fact is, that in his interview with Miss Gorgon and her aunt in the morning, when he came to tell them of the resolution he had formed to give up the place, both the ladies and John himself had agreed, with a thousand rapturous tears and exclamations, that he was one of the n.o.blest young men that ever lived, had acted as became himself, and might with perfect propriety give up the place, his talents being so prodigious that no power on earth could hinder him from being Lord Chancellor. Indeed, John and Lucy had always thought the clerks.h.i.+p quite beneath him, and were not a little glad, perhaps, at finding a pretext for decently refusing it. But as Perkins was a young gentleman whose candour was such that he was always swayed by the opinions of the last speaker, he did begin to feel now the truth of his uncle's statements, however disagreeable they might be.
Mr. Crampton continued:--
”I think I know the cause of your patriotism. Has not William Pitt Scully, Esquire, had something to do with it?”
Mr. Perkins COULD not turn any redder than he was, but confessed with deep humiliation that ”he HAD consulted Mr. Scully among other friends.”
Mr. Crampton smiled--drew a letter from a heap before him, and tearing off the signature, handed over the doc.u.ment to his nephew. It contained the following paragraphs:--
”Hawksby has sounded Scully: we can have him any day we want him. He talks very big at present, and says he would not take anything under a... This is absurd. He has a Yorks.h.i.+re nephew coming up to town, and wants a place for him. There is one vacant in the Tape Office, he says: have you not a promise of it?”
”I can't--I can't believe it,” said John; ”this, sir, is some weak invention of the enemy. Scully is the most honourable man breathing.”
”Mr. Scully is a gentleman in a very fair way to make a fortune,”
answered Mr. Crampton. ”Look you, John--it is just as well for your sake that I should give you the news a few weeks before the papers, for I don't want you to be ruined, if I can help it, as I don't wish to have you on my hands. We know all the particulars of Scully's history. He was a Tory attorney at Oldborough; he was jilted by the present Lady Gorgon, turned Radical, and fought Sir George in his own borough. Sir George would have had the peerage he is dying for, had he not lost that second seat (by-the-by, my Lady will be here in five minutes), and Scully is now quite firm there. Well, my dear lad, we have bought your incorruptible Scully. Look here,”--and Mr. Crampton produced three Morning Posts.
”'THE HONOURABLE HENRY HAWKSBY'S DINNER-PARTY.--Lord So-and-So--Duke of So-and-So--W. Pitt Scully, Esq. M.P.'
”Hawksby is our neutral, our dinner-giver.
”'LADY DIANA DOLDRUM'S ROUT.--W. Pitt Scully, Esq,' again.
”'THE EARL OF MANTRAP'S GRAND DINNER.'--A Duke--four Lords--'Mr. Scully, and Sir George Gorgon.'”
”Well, but I don't see how you have bought him; look at his votes.”
”My dear John,” said Mr. Crampton, jingling his watch-seals very complacently, ”I am letting you into fearful secrets. The great common end of party is to buy your opponents--the great statesman buys them for nothing.”
Here the attendant genius of Mr. Crampton made his appearance, and whispered something, to which the little gentleman said, ”Show her Ladys.h.i.+p in,”--when the attendant disappeared.
”John,” said Mr. Crampton, with a very queer smile, ”you can't stay in this room while Lady Gorgon is with me; but there is a little clerk's room behind the screen there, where you can wait until I call you.”
John retired, and as he closed the door of communication, strange to say, little Mr. Crampton sprang up and said, ”Confound the young ninny, he has shut the door!”
Mr. Crampton then, remembering that he wanted a map in the next room, sprang into it, left the door half open in coming out, and was in time to receive Her Ladys.h.i.+p with smiling face as she, ushered by Mr.
Strongitharm, majestically sailed in.
CHAPTER III.
BEHIND THE SCENES.
In issuing from and leaving open the door of the inner room, Mr.
Crampton had bestowed upon Mr. Perkins a look so peculiarly arch, that even he, simple as he was, began to imagine that some mystery was about to be cleared up, or some mighty matter to be discussed. Presently he heard the well-known voice of Lady Gorgon in conversation with his uncle. What could their talk be about? Mr. Perkins was dying to know, and--shall we say it?--advanced to the door on tiptoe and listened with all his might.
Her Ladys.h.i.+p, that Juno of a woman, if she had not borrowed Venus's girdle to render herself irresistible, at least had adopted a tender, coaxing, wheedling, frisky tone, quite different from her ordinary dignified style of conversation. She called Mr. Crampton a naughty man, for neglecting his old friends, vowed that Sir George was quite hurt at his not coming to dine--nor fixing a day when he would come--and added, with a most engaging ogle, that she had three fine girls at home, who would perhaps make an evening pa.s.s pleasantly, even to such a gay bachelor as Mr. Crampton.