by Adrien Paul
CHAPTER XIII.
HERBERT AND CECILIA--THE LITTLE ANGELS--A CATASTROPHE--THEDEPARTURE--MARRIAGE OF THE DOGE WITH THE ADRIATIC--SOVEREIGNS OF THESEA--DANTE AND BEATRIX--ELEONORA AND TASSO--LAURA AND PETRARCH--THERETURN--SURPRISES--WHAT ONE FINDS IN TURBOTS--A HORROR--THEPRICE OF CRIME--BALLOONING--PHILIPSON AND THE CHOLERA--AMETAMORPHOSIS--ADVENTURE OF THE CHIMPANZEE--ARE YOU RICH?
Next day the sky was shrouded in dense masses of cloud, some grey aslead, some livid as copper, and some black as ink. Towards evening thetwo families, as usual, resolved themselves into a talking party, andWolston, requesting them to listen, began as follows:--
"There were two rich merchants in Bristol, between whom a very closeintimacy had for a long time existed. One of them, whom I shall callHenry Foster, had a daughter; and the other, Nicholas Philipson, had ason, and the two fathers had destined these children for one another.The boy was a little older than the girl, and their tastes, habits,and dispositions seemed to fit them admirably for each other, and soto ratify the decision of the parents. Little Herbert and Cecilia werealmost constantly together. They had a purse in common, into whichthey put all the pieces of bright gold they received as presents onbirthdays and other festive occasions. In summer, when the twofamilies retired to a retreat that one of them had in the country, thechildren were permitted to visit the cottagers, and to assist thedistressed, if they chose, out of their own funds--a permission whichthey availed themselves of so liberally that they were called by thecountry people the two little angels."
"What a pity there are no poor people here!" said Sophia, dolefully.
"Why?" inquired her mother.
"Because we might assist them, mamma."
"It is much better, however, as it is, my child; our assistance mightmitigate the evils of poverty, but might not be sufficient to removethem."
This reasoning did not seem conclusive to Sophia, who shook her headand commenced plying her wheel with redoubled energy.
"When Herbert Philipson was twelve years of age he was sent off toschool, and Cecilia was confided to the care of a governess, who,under the direction of Mrs. Foster, was to undertake her education.But neither music nor drawing, needlework, grammars nor exercises,could make little Cecilia forget her absent companion. Absence, thatcools older friendships, had a contrary effect on her heart; themonths, weeks, days, and hours that were to elapse before Herbertreturned for the holidays, were counted and recounted. When thatperiod--so anxiously desired--at length arrived, there was no end ofrejoicing: she told Herbert of all the little boys and little girlsshe had clothed and fed, of the old people she had relieved, of thetears she had shed over tales of woe and misery, how she had carriedevery week a little basket covered with a white napkin to widowRobson, how often she had gone into the damp and dismal cottage of thedying miner, and how happy she always made his wife and their ninepitiful looking children."
"That is a way of conquering human hearts," remarked Mrs. Becker,"often more effective than those referred to the other day."
"Once, when Herbert was at home for the holidays, he accompaniedCecilia on her charitable visits, and was greatly surprised to findthat blessings were showered upon his own head wherever they went;people, whom he had never seen before, insisted upon his being theirbenefactor. This he could not make out. At last, by an accident, hediscovered the secret--Cecilia had been distributing her gifts in hisname! He remonstrated warmly against this, declaring that he had nowish to be praised and blessed for doing things that he had no handin. Finding that his protestations were of no avail, he determined,on the eve of his returning to school, to have his revenge."
"He did not buy Cecilia a doll, did he?" inquired Jack.
"No; he collected all the eatables, clothing, blankets, and money hecould obtain; went amongst the poorest of the cottages, anddistributed the whole in Cecilia's name."
"Ah," remarked Mrs. Becker, "it is a pity we could not all remain atthe age of these children, with the same purity, the same innocence,and the same freshness of sensation; the world would then be averitable Paradise."
"For some years this state of things continued, the affection betweenthe young people strengthened as they grew older, the occasionalholiday time was always the happiest of their lives. Herbert, in duecourse, was transferred from school to college, where he obtained adegree, and rapidly verged into manhood. Cecilia from the girl atlength bloomed into the young lady. A day was finally fixed when theywere to be bound together by the holy ties of the church; everythingwas prepared for their union, when the commercial world was startledby the announcement that Philipson was a ruined man. A ship in whichhe had embarked a valuable freight had been wrecked, and an agent towhom he had entrusted a large sum of money had suddenly disappeared."
"How deplorable!" cried Fritz.
"Not so very unfortunate, after all," remarked Mary.
"What makes you think so?"
"Because nothing had occurred to interrupt the marriage; only one ofthe families was ruined, and there was still enough left for both."
"But," said Fritz, "even admitting that the friendship between the twofamilies continued uninterrupted, and that the father of Cecilia waswilling to share his property with the father of Herbert, still theyoung man, in the parlance of society, was a beggar; and it is alwayshard for a man to owe his position to a woman, and to become, as itwere, the _protege_ of her whom he ought rather to protect."
"If that is the view you take, Master Fritz, then I agree with youthat the misfortune was deplorable," said Mary, bending at the sametime to hide her blushes, under pretence of mending a broken thread.
"And what if Cecilia's father had been ruined instead of Herbert's?"inquired Jack.
"I should say," replied Sophia, "that we have as much right to beproud and dignified as you have."
"The best way in such a case," observed Willis, laughing, "would befor both parties to get ruined together."
"Herbert," continued Wolston, "was a youth of resolution and energy.He entertained the same opinion as Fritz; and instead of wasting histime in idle despondency, got together some articles of merchandise,and sailed for the Indian Archipelago, promising his friends that hewould return to his native land in two years."
"Two years is a long time," remarked Mary; "but sometimes it passesaway very quickly."
"Ah!" observed Sophia, Cecilia, in the meantime, would redouble hercharities and her prayers."
"The two years passed away, then a third, and then a fourth, but not asingle word had either been heard of or from the absentee. Cecilia wasrich, and her hand was sought by many wealthy suitors, but hithertoshe had rejected them all."
"The dear, good Cecilia," cried Sophia.
"Up till this period the family had permitted her to have her own way.But as it is necessary for authority to prevent excesses of all kinds,they thought it time now to interfere; they could not allow her tosacrifice her whole life for a shadow. Her parents, therefore,insisted upon her making a choice of one or other of the suitors forher hand. She requested grace for one year more, which was granted."
"Come back, truant, quick; come back, Master Herbert!" cried Sophia.
"There now, Willis," cried Jack, "you see the effect of your newworld; people go away there, and never come back again."
"Oh, but you must bring him back in time, father; you must indeed,"urged Sophia.
"If it were only a romance I were relating to you, Sophia, I couldvery easily bring him back; but the narrative I am giving you is amatter of fact, which I cannot alter at will. There would be nodifficulty in bringing a richly-laden East Indiaman, commanded byCaptain Philipson, into the Severn, and making Herbert and Ceciliaconclude the story in each other's arms, but it would not be true."
"Then if I had been Cecilia, I should have become a nun," said Mary,timidly.
"Exaggeration, my daughter, is an enemy to truth. It is easy to say,'I would become a nun,' and in Roman Catholic countries it is quite aseasy to become one; but, though it may be sublime to retire in t
hisway from the world, it is frightful when a woman has afterwards toregret the inconsiderate step she has taken, and which is often thecase with these poor creatures."
"As you said of myself," remarked Willis, "it is a crime to go downwith a sinking ship so long as there is a straw to cling to."
"I presume," continued Wolston, "that during this year poor Ceciliaprayed fervently for the return of her old playfellow; but her prayerswere all in vain, the year expired, and still no news of the youngman; at last she despaired of ever seeing him again, and, after asevere struggle with herself, she decided upon complying with thedesire of her parents and her friends. A few months after the expiringof the year of grace, she was the affianced bride of a highlyrespectable, well-to-do, middle-aged gentleman. John Lindsey, herintended husband, could not boast of his good looks; he was little,rather stout, was deeply pitted in the face with the small-pox, andhad a very red nose, but he was considered by the ladies of Bristol asa very good match for all that."
"Oh, Cecilia, how ridiculous!" exclaimed Sophia.
"Better, at all events, than turning nun," said Jack.
"The family this season had gone to pass the summer at the sea-coast;and one day that Cecilia and her intended were taking their accustomedwalk along the shore--"
"Holloa!" cried Jack, "the truant is going to appear, after all."
"John Lindsey, observing a ring of some value upon Cecilia's finger,politely asked her if she had any objections to tell him its history.She replied that she had none, and told him it was a gift of youngPhilipson's. 'I am well acquainted with your story,' said Lindsey,'and do not blame the constancy with which you have treasured thememory of that young man; on the contrary, I respect you for it--infact, it was the knowledge of your self-sacrifice to this affectionand all its attendant circumstances, that led me to solicit the honorof your hand; for, said I to myself, one who has evinced so muchdevotion for a mere sentiment, is never likely to prove unfaithful tosacred vows pledged at the altar,' 'Come what may, you may at leastrely upon that, sir,' she answered. 'Then,' continued Lindsey, 'as aneternal barrier is about to be placed between yourself and your pastaffections, perhaps you will pardon my desire to separate you, as muchas possible, from everything that is likely to recal them to yourmind.' Saying that, he gently drew the ring from her finger, and threwit into the sea."
It was strongly suspected that Mary shed a tear at this point of therecital.
"It is all over with you now, Herbert," cried Fritz.
"You had better make a bonfire of your ships, like Fernando Cortez inMexico; or, if you are on your way home, better pray for a hurricaneto swallow you up, than have all your bright hopes dashed to atoms,when you arrive in port."
"I am only a little girl," said Sophia; "but I know what I should havesaid, if the gentleman had done the same thing to me."
"And what would you have said, child?" inquired her mother.
"I should have said, that I was not the Doge of Venice, and had nointention of marrying the British Channel."
"Can you describe the ceremony to which you refer?"
"Yes; but it would interrupt papa's story, and Jack would laugh atme."
"Never mind my story," replied her father, "there is plenty of timeto finish that."
"And as for me," said Jack, "though I do not wear a cocked hat andknee breeches, and though, in other respects, my tailor has ratherneglected my outward man, still I know what is due to a lady and aqueen."
"There, he begins already!" said Sophia.
"Never mind him, child; go on with your account of the marriage."
"Well," began Sophia, "for a long time, there had been disputesbetween the states of Bologna, Ancona, and Venice, as to whichpossessed the sovereignty of the Adriatic."
"If it had been a dispute about the Sovereignty of the ocean ingeneral," remarked Willis, "there would have been another competitor."
"Venice," continued Sophia, "carried the day, and about 1275 or 76 sheresolved to celebrate her victory by an annual ceremony. For thispurpose, a magnificent galley was built, encrusted with gold, silver,and precious stones. This floating _bijou_ was called the_Bucentaure_, was guarded in the arsenal, whence it was removed on theeve of the Ascension. Next day the Doge, the patriarch, and theCouncil of Ten embarked, and the galley was towed out to the open sea,but not far from the shore. There, in the presence of the foreignambassadors, whilst the clergy chanted the marriage service, the Dogeadvanced majestically to the front of the galley, and there formallywedded the sea."
"He might have done worse," observed Willis.
"The ceremony," continued Sophia, "consisted in the Doge throwing aring into the sea, saying, 'We wed thee, O sea! to mark the real andperpetual dominion we possess over thee.'"
"And it may be added," observed Becker, "that the history of Veniceshows how religiously the spouses of the Adriatic kept their vows."
"Now," said Sophia, "that I have told my tale, let us hear what becameof Cecilia."
"Well, the marriage took place the morning after Herbert's ring hadbeen thrown to the fishes. Whilst the bride, bridegroom, and theirfriends were congratulating each other over the wedding breakfast, asis usual in England on such occasions, Cecilia's father was called outof the room."
"Too late," remarked Fritz.
"Herbert Philipson had arrived that same morning; but, as Fritzobserves, he was just an hour too late. He had acquired a fortune, buthis long-cherished hopes of happiness were completely blasted."
"Why did he stay away five years without writing?" inquired Mrs.Wolston.
"He had written several times, but at that time no regular post hadbeen established, and his letters had never reached theirdestination."
"When did he find out that Cecilia was married?"
"Well, some people think it more humane to kill a man by inches ratherthan by a single blow of the axe. Not so with Herbert's friends; thefirst news that greeted him on landing were, that his ever-rememberedCecilia was probably at that moment before the altar pledging her vowsto another."
"I should rather have had a chimney-pot tumble on my head," remarkedWillis.
"Herbert was a man in every sense of the word--the mode of hisdeparture proves that. On hearing this painful intelligence, he simplycovered his face with his hands, and, after a moment's thought,resolved to see his lost bride at least once more."
"Poor Herbert!" sighed Mary.
"Foster was thunderstruck when the stranger declared himself to be theson of his old friend; and, after cordially bidding him welcome,sorrowfully asked him what he meant to do. 'I should wish to see Mrs.Lindsey in presence of her husband,' he replied, 'providing you haveno objections to introduce me to the company.'"
"Bravo!" ejaculated Willis.
"Foster could not refuse this favor to an unfortunate, who had justbeen disinherited of his dearest hopes. He, therefore, took Herbert bythe hand and led him into the room. Nobody recognized him. 'Ladies andgentlemen,' said he, 'permit me to introduce Mr. Herbert Philipson,who has just arrived from Sumatra.' You may readily conceive thedismay this unexpected announcement called up into the countenances ofthe guests. There was only one person in the room who was calm,tranquil, and unmoved--that person was Cecilia herself. She rosecourteously, bade him welcome, hoped he was well, coolly asked him whyhe had not written to his friends, and politely asked him to take aseat beside herself and husband, just, for all the world, as if he hadbeen some country cousin or poor relation to whom she wished to show alittle attention."
"I would rather have been at the bottom of the sea than in her place,for all that," said Mary.
"Why? She had nothing to reproach herself with. Had she not waitedlong enough for him?"
"Young heads," remarked Becker, "are not always stored with sense. Afoolish pledge, given in a moment of thoughtlessness is oftenobstinately adhered to in spite of reason and argument. The young ideadelights in miraculous instances of fidelity. What more charming to ayoung and ardent mind than the loves of Dante and Beatrix, of Ele
onoraand Tasso, of Petrarch and Laura, of Abelard and Heloise, or of DeanSwift and Stella? Young people do not reflect that most of thesestories are apocryphal, and that the men who figure in them sought toadd to their renown the prestige of originality; they put on a passionas ordinary mortals put on a new dress, they yielded to imaginationand not to the law of the heart, and almost all of them paid by a lifeof wretchedness the penalty of their dreams."
"That is, I presume," remarked Mrs. Wolston, "you do not object to anyreasonable amount of constancy, but you object to its being carried toan unwarrantable excess."
"Exactly so, madam," replied Becker; "constancy, like every thing elsewhen reasonable limits are exceeded, becomes a vice."
"The merriments of the marriage breakfast," continued Wolston"slightly interrupted by the arrival of the new guest, were resumed.Fresh dishes were brought in, and, amongst others, a fine turbot wasplaced on the table. The gentleman who was engaged in carving theturbot struck the fish-knife against a hard substance."
"I know what!" exclaimed two or three voices.
"I rather think not," said Wolston, drily.
"Oh, yes, the ring! the ring!"
"No, it was merely the bone that runs from the head to the tail of thefish."
"Oh, father," cried Sophia, "how can you tease us so?"
"If they had found the ring," replied Wolston, laughing, "I shouldhave no motive for concealing it. Fruit was afterwards placed beforeHerbert, and, when nobody was looking, he pulled a clasped dagger outof his pocket."
Here Sophia pressed her hands closely on her ears, in order to avoidhearing what followed.
"It was a very beautiful poignard," continued Wolston, "and rather abijou than a weapon; and, as the servants had neglected to hand him afruit-knife, he made use of it in paring an apple."
"Is it all over?" inquired Sophia, removing a hand from one ear.
"Alas! yes!" said Jack, lugubriously, "he has been and done it."
"O the monster!"
"Travelling carriages having arrived at the door for the bridal party,Herbert quietly departed."
"What!" exclaimed Sophia, "did they not arrest and drag him toprison?"
"Oh," replied Jack, "the crime was not so atrocious as it appears."
"Not atrocious!"
"No; you must bear in mind that young Philipson had passed thepreceding five years of his life amongst demi-savages, whose mannersand customs he had, to a certain extent, necessarily contracted. Insome countries, what we call crimes are only regarded as peccadillos.In France, for example, till very lately, there existed what wascalled the law of _combette_, by right of which pardon might beobtained for any misdeed on payment of a certain sum of money. Therewas a fixed price for every imaginable crime. A man mightconsequently be a Blue Beard if he liked, it was only necessary toconsult the tariff in the first instance, and see to what extent hismeans would enable him to indulge his fancy for horrors."
"On quitting the house," continued Wolston, "Herbert Philipson benthis way to the shore, and shortly after was observed to plunge intothe sea."
"So much the better," exclaimed Sophia; "it saved his friends a moredreadful spectacle."
"The weather being fine and the water warm, Herbert enjoyed his bathimmensely; he then returned to his hotel, went early to bed, and sleptsoundly till next morning."
"The wretch!" cried Sophia, "to sleep soundly after assassinating hisold playfellow, who had suffered so much on his account."
"It is pretty certain," continued Wolston, "that, if Philipson hadbeen left entirely to himself, he would always have shown the samedegree of moderation he had hitherto displayed."
"Oh, yes, moderation!" said Sophia.
"But his friends began to prate to him about the shameful way he hadbeen jilted by Cecilia, and, by constantly reiterating the same thing,they at last succeeded in persuading him that he was an ill-used man.His self-esteem being roused by this silly chatter, he began to affecta ridiculous desolation, and to perpetrate all manner of outrageousextravagances."
"Bad friends," remarked Willis, "are like sinking ships; they drag youdown to their own level."
"The first absurd thing he did was to purchase a yacht, and when astorm arose that forced the hardy fishermen to take shelter in port,he went out to sea, and it is quite a miracle that he escapeddrowning. Then, if there were a doubtful scheme afloat, he was sure totake shares in it. Nothing delighted him more than to go up in aballoon; he would have gladly swung himself on the car outside if theproprietor had allowed him."
"I have often seen balloons in the air," remarked Willis, "but I couldnever make out their dead reckoning."
"A balloon," replied Ernest, "is nothing more than an artificialcloud, and its power of ascension depends upon the volume of air itdisplaces.
"Very good, Master Ernest, so far as the balloon itself is concerned;but then there is the weight of the car, passengers, provisions, andapparatus to account for."
"Hydrogen gas, used in the inflation of balloons, is forty timeslighter than air. If a balloon is made large enough, the weight of thecar and all that it contains, added to that of the gas, will fallconsiderably short of the weight of the air displaced by the machine."
"I suppose it rises in the air just as an empty bottle well corkedrises in the water?"
"Very nearly. Air is lighter than water; consequently, any vesselfilled with the one will rise to the surface of the other. So in thecase of balloons. The gas, in the first place, must be inclosed in anenvelope through which it cannot escape. Silk prepared withIndia-rubber is the material usually employed. As the balloon rises,the gas in the interior distends, because the air becomes lighter theless it is condensed by its superincumbent masses; hence it isrequisite to leave a margin for this increase in the volume of thegas, otherwise the balloon would burst in the air."
"If a balloon were allowed to ascend without hindrance where would itstop?"
"It would continue ascending till it reached a layer of air as lightas the gas; beyond that point it could not go."
"And if the voyagers do not wish to go quite so far?"
"Then there is a valve by which the gas may be allowed to escape, tillthe weight of the machine and its volume of air are equal, when itceases to ascend. If a little more is permitted to escape, the balloondescends."
"And should it land on the roof of a house or the top of a tree, thevoyagers have their necks broken."
"That can only happen to bunglers; there is not the least necessityfor landing where danger is to be apprehended. When the aeronaut isnear the ground, and sees that the spot is unfavorable fordebarkation, he drops a little ballast, the balloon mounts, and hecomes down again somewhere else."
"The fellow that made the first voyage must have been very daring."
"The first ascent was made by Montgolfier in 1782, and he was followedby Rosiers and d'Arlandes."
"With your permission, father," said Ernest, "I will claim priority inaerial travelling for Icarus, Doedalus, and Phaeton."
"Certainly; you are justified in doing so. Gay-Lussac, a philosophicFrenchman, rose, in 1804, to the height of seven thousand yards."
"He must have felt a little giddy," remarked Jack.
"Most of the functions of the body were affected, more or less, by theextreme rarity of the air at that height. Its dryness caused wetparchment to crisp. He observed that the action of the magnetic needlediminished as he ascended, sounds gradually ceased to reach his ear,and the wind itself ceased to be felt."
"That, of course," remarked Ernest, "was when he was travelling in thesame direction and at the same speed."
"Well," said Jack, "we can find materials here for a balloon; theladies have silk dresses, there is plenty of India-rubber--we used tomake boots and shoes of it; hydrogen gas can be obtained from avariety of substances. What, then, is to prevent us paying a visit tosome of Ernest's friends in the skies?"
"Unfortunately for your project, Jack, no one has discovered the artof guiding a balloon; consequently, in
stead of finding yourself at_Cassiope_, you might land at _Sirius_, where your reception would besomewhat cool."
"But what became of Herbert?" inquired one of the ladies.
"Singularly enough, he escaped all the dangers he so recklesslybraved, and all the bad speculations he embarked in turned out good.Somehow or other, the moment he took part in a desperate scheme itbecame profitable."
"Ah!" exclaimed Sophia, "his victim, like a guardian angel, continuedto watch over him."
"When the cholera appeared in England, he was sure to be found wherethe cases were most numerous. He followed up the pest with so muchpertinacity and publicity, that it was no unusual thing to find itannounced in the newspapers that Philipson and the cholera had arrivedin such and such a town."
"The bane and the antidote," remarked Jack.
"If Cecilia had been one of those women who delight in horse-racing,fox-hunting, opera-boxes, and public executions, she would have beenhighly amused to see her old friend's name constantly turning up undersuch extraordinary circumstances."
"Is she not dead, then?" inquired Sophia, with astonishment,
"It appears that her wounds were not mortal," quietly replied hermother.
"Besides," observed Jack, "there are human frames so constituted thatthey can bear an immense amount of cutting and slashing. So in thecase of animals; there, for instance, is the fresh-water polypus--ifyou cut this creature lengthwise straight through the middle, a rightside will grow on the one half and a left side on the other, so thatthere will be two polypi instead of one. The same thing occurs if youcut one through the middle crosswise, a head grows on the one half anda tail on the other, so that you have two entire polypi either way."
"And you may add," observed Ernest, "since so interesting a subject ison the _tapis_, that if two of these polypi happen to quarrel overtheir prey, the largest generally swallows the smallest, in order toget it out of the way; and the latter, with the exception of being alittle cramped for space, is not in the slightest degree injured bythe operation."
"And does that state of matters continue any length of time?"
"The polypus that is inside the other may probably get tired ofconfinement, in which case it makes its exit by the same route itentered; but, if too lazy to do that, it makes a hole in the body ofits antagonist and gets out that way. But, what is most curious ofall, these processes do not appear to put either of the creatures tothe slightest inconvenience."
"I am quite at a loss to make you all out," said Sophia.
"Well, my child," replied her mother, "you should not close up yourears in the middle of a story."
"Cecilia, or rather Mrs. Lindsey, however," continued Wolston, "was apious, painstaking, simple-minded woman, who devoted her wholeattention to her domestic duties. Notwithstanding her fortune, she didnot neglect the humblest affairs of the household, and thought only ofmaking her husband pleased with his home. When she was told of thevagaries of Philipson, she prayed in private that he might be led fromhis evil ways, and could not help thanking Providence that she was notthe wife of such a dreadful scapegrace."
"I should think so," remarked Mrs. Becker.
"At last, Herbert Philipson astonished even his own companions by acrowning act of folly. There was then a young woman in Bristol, ofgood parentage, but an unmitigated virago; her family were thoroughlyashamed of her temper and her exploits. They allowed her to have herown way, simply for fear that, through contradiction, she might plungeherself into even worse courses than those she now habituallyfollowed. In short, she was the talk and jest of the whole town."
"What a charming creature!" remarked Mrs. Becker.
"No servant of her own sex could put up with her for two daystogether; she styled everybody that came near her fools and asses, anddid not hesitate to strike them if they ventured to contradict her.She got on, however, tolerably well with ostlers, stable-boys, cabmen,and such like, because they could treat her in her own style, and werenot ruffled by her abuse."
"How amiable!" exclaimed Mrs. Wolston.
"Herbert heard of this young person, and, through a fast friend of hisown, obtained an introduction to her, and on the very first interviewhe offered her his hand. He was known still to be a wealthy man, soneither the lady herself nor anybody connected with her made theslightest objection to the match, thinking probably that, if therewere six of the one, there were at least half a dozen of the other."
"They ought to have gone to Bedlam, instead of to church," saidWillis; "that is my idea."
"Nevertheless, they went to church; and, after the marriage, Ceciliasought and obtained an introduction to the lady, and, whether byentreaties or by her good example, I cannot say; be this as it may,the unpromising personage in question became one of the best wives andthe best mothers that ever graced a domestic circle--in this respecteven excelling the pattern Cecilia herself; and, what is still more tothe purpose, she succeeded in completely reforming her husband. When Ileft England there was not a more prosperous merchant, nor a moreestimable man in the whole city of Bristol, than Herbert Philipson."
"From which we may conclude," remarked Mrs. Becker, "it is alwaysadvisable to have angels for friends."
"We may also conclude," remarked Mrs. Wolston, "that when a stroke ofadversity, or any other misfortune, overturns the edifice of happinesswe had erected for the future, we may build a new structure with freshmaterial, which may prove more durable than the first."
"Talking of having angels for friends," said Becker, "puts me in mindof the association of Saint Louis Gonzaga, at Rome. On the anniversaryof this saint, the young and merry phalanx forming the associationmarch in procession to one of the public gardens. In the centre ofthis garden a magnificent altar has been previously erected, on whichis placed a chafing-dish filled with burning coals. The processionforms itself into an immense ring round the altar, broken here andthere by a band of music. These bands play hymns in honor of thesaints, and other _morceaux_ of a sacred character. Each member of theassociation holds a letter inclosed in an embossed and highlyornamented envelope, bound round with gay-colored ribbons and threadsof gold. These letters are messages from the young correspondents totheir friends in heaven, and are addressed to 'Il Santo Giovane LuigiGonzaga, in Paradiso.' At a given signal, the letters, in the midst ofprofound silence, are placed on the chafing-dish. This done, the musicresounds on all sides, and the assembly burst out into loudacclamations, during which the letters are supposed to be carried upinto heaven by the angels."
"A curious and interesting ceremony," remarked Mrs. Wolston, "and onethat may possibly do good, inasmuch as it may induce the young peoplecomposing the association to persevere in generous resolutions."
The two families again separated for the night. And whilst the youngmen were escorting the Wolstons to their tree, Sophia went towardsJack. "Will you tell me," inquired she, "what happened whilst I had myears closed up, Jack?"
"Yes, with all my heart, if you will tell me first what the chimpanzeehad been about during our absence."
"Well, he got up into our tree when we were out of the way. Aftersoaping his chin, he had taken one of papa's razors, and just as hewas beginning to shave himself, some one entered and caught him."
"Oh, is that all? What I have to tell you is a great deal moreappalling than that."
"Well, then, be quick."
"But I am afraid you will be shocked."
"Is it very dreadful?"
"More so than you would imagine. If you dream about it during thenight, you will not be angry with me for telling you?"
"No, I will be courageous, and am prepared to hear the worst."
"What was your father saying when you shut up your ears?"
"Herbert had just pulled out a dagger."
"And when you took your hands away?"
"All was then over; Herbert had done some dreadful thing with thedagger, and I want to know what it was."
"He pared an apple with it," replied Jack, bursting into a roar oflaughter, and, running off, h
e left Sophia to her reflections.
A few seconds after he returned. This time he had almost a solemn air,the laughter had vanished from his visage, like breath from polishedsteel.
"Miss Sophia," inquired he gravely, "are you rich?"
"I don't know, Master Jack; are you?"
"Well, I have not the slightest idea either."