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CHAPTER XXXVII.
What a charming character is a kind old man.—STEPHEN MONTAGUE.
"Cheer up, my dear boy," said Talbot, kindly, "we must never despair.What though Lady Westborough has forbidden you the boudoir, a boudoiris a very different thing from a daughter, and you have no right tosuppose that the veto extends to both. But now that we are on thissubject, do let me reason with you seriously. Have you not alreadytasted all the pleasures, and been sufficiently annoyed by some of thepains, of acting the 'Incognito'? Be ruled by me: resume your propername; it is at least one which the proudest might acknowledge; and itsdiscovery will remove the greatest obstacle to the success which youso ardently desire."
Clarence, who was labouring under strong excitement, paused for somemoments, as if to collect himself, before he replied: "I have beenthrust from my father's home; I have been made the victim of another'scrime; I have been denied the rights and name of son; perhaps (and Isay this bitterly) justly denied them, despite of my own innocence.What would you have me do? Resume a name never conceded to me,—perhaps not righteously mine,—thrust myself upon the unwilling andshrinking hands which disowned and rejected me; blazon my virtues bypretensions which I myself have promised to forego, and foist myselfon the notice of strangers by the very claims which my nearestrelations dispute? Never! never! never! With the simple name I haveassumed; the friend I myself have won,—you, my generous benefactor,my real father, who never forsook nor insulted me for my misfortunes,—with these I have gained some steps in the ladder; with these, andthose gifts of nature, a stout heart and a willing hand, of which nonecan rob me, I will either ascend the rest, even to the summit, or fallto the dust, unknown, but not contemned; unlamented, but notdespised."
"Well, well," said Talbot, brushing away a tear which he could notdeny to the feeling, even while he disputed the judgment, of the youngadventurer,—"well, this is all very fine and very foolish; but youshall never want friend or father while I live, or when I have ceasedto live; but come,—sit down, share my dinner, which is not very good,and my dessert, which is: help me to entertain two or three guests whoare coming to me in the evening, to talk on literature, sup, andsleep; and to-morrow you shall return home, and see Lady Flora in thedrawing-room if you cannot in the boudoir."
And Clarence was easily persuaded to accept the invitation. Talbotwas not one of those men who are forced to exert themselves to beentertaining. He had the pleasant and easy way of imparting his greatgeneral and curious information, that a man, partly humourist, partlyphilosopher, who values himself on being a man of letters, and is inspite of himself a man of the world, always ought to possess.Clarence was soon beguiled from the remembrance of his mortifications,and, by little and little, entirely yielded to the airy and happy flowof Talbot's conversation.
In the evening, three or four men of literary eminence (as many asTalbot's small Tusculum would accommodate with beds) arrived, and in aconversation, free alike from the jargon of pedants and theinsipidities of fashion, the night fled away swiftly and happily, evento the lover.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
We are here (in the country) among the vast and noble scenes ofNature; we are there (in the town) among the pitiful shifts of policy.We walk here in the light and open ways of the divine bounty,—wegrope the