CHAPTER XXXIV.
An old worshipful gentleman, that had a great estate, And kept a braveold house at a hospitable rate.--Old Song.
I think I may, without much loss to the reader, pass in silence overmy voyage, the next day, to Dover. (Horrible reminiscence!) I may alsospare him an exact detail of all the inns and impositions between thatsea-port and London; nor will it be absolutely necessary to the plot ofthis history, to linger over every mile-stone between the metropolisand Glenmorris Castle, where my uncle and my mother were impatientlyawaiting the arrival of the candidate to be.
It was a fine bright evening when my carriage entered the park. I hadnot seen the place for years; and I felt my heart swell with somethinglike family pride, as I gazed on the magnificent extent of hill andplain that opened upon me, as I passed the ancient and ivy-coveredlodge. Large groups of trees, scattered on either side, seemed, in theirown antiquity, the witness of that of the family which had given themexistence. The sun set on the waters which lay gathered in a lake atthe foot of the hill, breaking the waves into unnumbered sapphires, andtinging the dark firs that overspread the margin, with a rich and goldenlight, that put me excessively in mind of the Duke of--'s livery.
When I descended at the gate, the servants, who stood arranged in anorder so long that it almost startled me, received me with a visiblegladness and animation, which shewed me, at one glance, the oldfashioned tastes of their master. Who, in these days, ever inspires hisservants with a single sentiment of regard or interest for himself orhis whole race? That tribe one never, indeed, considers as possessinga life separate from their services to us: beyond that purpose ofexistence, we know not even if they exist. As Providence made the starsfor the benefit of earth, so it made servants for the use of gentlemen;and, as neither stars nor servants appear except when we want them, soI suppose they are in a sort of suspense from being, except at thoseimportant and happy moments.
To return--for if I have any fault, it is too great a love for abstrusespeculation and reflection--I was formally ushered through a great hall,hung round with huge antlers and rusty armour, through a lesser one,supported by large stone columns, and without any other adornmentthan the arms of the family; then through an anti-room, covered withtapestry, representing the gallantries of King Solomon to the Queen ofSheba; and lastly, into the apartment honoured by the august presenceof Lord Glenmorris. That personage was dividing the sofa with threespaniels and a setter; he rose hastily when I was announced, and thenchecking the first impulse which hurried him, perhaps, into an unseemlywarmth of salutation, held out his hand with a pompous air of kindlyprotection, and while he pressed mine, surveyed me from head to foot tosee how far my appearance justified his condescension.
Having, at last, satisfied himself, he proceeded to inquire after thestate of my appetite. He smiled benignantly when I confessed that I wasexcessively well prepared to testify its capacities (the first idea ofall kind-hearted, old-fashioned people, is to stuff you), and, silentlymotioning to the grey-headed servant who stood in attendance, tillreceiving the expected sign, he withdrew, Lord Glenmorris informed methat dinner was over for every one but myself, that for me it would beprepared in an instant, that Mr. Toolington had expired four days since,that my mother was, at that moment, canvassing for me, and that myown electioneering qualities were to open their exhibition with thefollowing day.
After this communication there was a short pause. "What a beautifulplace this is!" said I, with great enthusiasm. Lord Glenmorris waspleased with the compliment, simple as it was.
"Yes," said he, "it is, and I have made it still more so than you haveyet been able to perceive."
"You have been planting, probably, on the other side of the park?"
"No," said my uncle, smiling; "Nature had done every thing for this spotwhen I came to it, but one, and the addition of that one ornament is theonly real triumph which art ever can achieve."
"What is it?" asked I; "oh, I know--water."
"You are mistaken," answered Lord Glenmorris; "it is the ornamentof--happy faces."
I looked up to my uncle's countenance in sudden surprise. I cannotexplain how I was struck with the expression which it wore: so calmlybright and open!--it was as if the very daylight had settled there.
"You don't understand this at present, Henry," said he, after a moment'ssilence; "but you will find it, of all rules for the improvement ofproperty, the easiest to learn. Enough of this now. Were you not audesespoir at leaving Paris?"
"I should have been, some months ago; but when I received my mother'ssummons, I found the temptations of the continent very light incomparison with those held out to me here."
"What, have you already arrived at that great epoch, when vanity castsoff its first skin, and ambition succeeds to pleasure? Why--but thankHeaven that you have lost my moral--your dinner is announced."
Most devoutly did I thank Heaven, and most earnestly did I betake myselfto do honour to my uncle's hospitality.
I had just finished my repast, when my mother entered. She was, as youmight well expect from her maternal affection, quite overpowered withjoy, first, at finding my hair grown so much darker, and, secondly, atmy looking so well. We spent the whole evening in discussing the greatbusiness for which I had been summoned. Lord Glenmorris promised memoney, and my mother advice; and I, in my turn, enchanted them, bypromising to make the best use of both.
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