Part 41 (1/2)
This intelligence roused the curiosity of William Aveleyn, who interrogated Amber, and obtained from her the whole of the particulars communicated by Edward Forster; and, as she answered to his many questions, she grew more composed.
The narrative had scarcely been finished, when Lord Aveleyn, who had been summoned by Robinson, drove to the door, accompanied by Lady Aveleyn, who thought that her presence and persuasions would more readily induce Amber to heave the cottage. Convinced by her of the propriety of the proposal, Amber was put into the carriage without resistance, and conveyed to the Hall, where every thing that kindness and sympathy could suggest was resorted to, to a.s.suage her grief. There we must leave her, and repair to the metropolis.
”Scratton,” said Mr John Forster to his clerk, who had answered the bell, ”recollect I cannot see any one to-day.”
”You have several appointments, sir,” replied the clerk.
”Then send, and put them all off.”
”Yes, sir; and if any one calls, I am to say that you are not at home?”
”No, I am at home; why tell a lie? but I cannot see any body.”
The clerk shut the door; John Forster put on his spectacles to reperuse the letter which lay before him. It was the one from Edward, inclosed in a frank by Lord Aveleyn, with a few lines, announcing his brother's death, and stating that Amber was at the Hall, where they should be glad that she should remain until it was convenient to send for her.
Edward's letter repeated his thanks to his brother for his kind promise, and took a last and affectionate farewell. John Forster struggled for a time with his feelings; but the more he attempted to repress them, the more violent they became. He was alone, and he gave them vent. The legal doc.u.ments before him, arising from the bitterness of strife, were thus unusually moistened with a tribute to a brother's memory. But in a few moments the old lawyer was himself again; all traces of emotion had disappeared, and no one who had seen him then would ever have imagined that John Forster could have been thus moved. The next day he was not as usual to be found at his chambers: the fact was, that he had set off immediately after breakfast, upon what is generally termed ”house hunting.” The apartments which he occupied in his chambers were not sufficient for the intended increase of his establishment; and when he had given his promise to Edward, he was fully aware of the expense which would be entailed by receiving Amber, and had made up his mind to incur it. He therefore fixed upon a convenient house in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, which would not detach him far from his chambers. Having arranged for a lease of twelve years, John Forster returned to his chambers.
”Scratton,” said he, ”look out for a man-servant, a cook, housemaid, and a steady woman, as housekeeper--good characters, and undeniable reference. The housekeeper must be a somewhat superior person, as she will have to take charge of a young miss, and I do not want her spoiled by keeping company with the general description of servants. Do you understand?”
Scratton did; and in less than a month, as every thing is to be obtained for money in the city of London, the house was furnished by a city upholsterer in a plain way, and all the servants installed in their respective situations.
Mr John Forster took possession of his new house, and tried for a week if all worked well. Ascertaining that the furniture was complete, the under-servants well behaved, and the housekeeper a mild and very intelligent personage, fit to be intrusted with the charge of a little girl, he then wrote to Lord Aveleyn, reiterating the thanks conveyed in his former letter, and requesting that Amber might be delivered into the charge of the bearer. With this letter Mr Scratton was despatched, and, in due time, arrived at the Hall. Amber wept bitterly at the idea of parting with those who had been so kind to her, and pa.s.sing into the hands of one who was a stranger. Having exacted a promise from William Aveleyn that he would call as he pa.s.sed through on his way to Cambridge, she bade her kind friends farewell, entered the chaise in company with Mr Scratton, and was hurried off to London.
Mr Scratton was one of those personages who never spoke except on business; and, having no business to transact with a girl of twelve years old, he never spoke at all except when necessity rendered it imperative. Amber was therefore left to her own reflections. What they all were I cannot tell; but one certainly was, that travelling in a chaise for two days with Mr Scratton was not very agreeable. Most happy was she when they drove up to the door of Mr John Forster's new habitation. The old gentleman, who had calculated the hour of her arrival after the receipt of a letter from her companion, was there to receive her. Amber, who had been prepossessed in his favour by Edward Forster, who had told her that in his brother she would find a protector and indulgent parent, ran up to him when she entered the room, and burst into tears as the injunctions of Edward Forster returned to her memory.
John Forster took her in his arms, and kissed her. ”My little girl,”
said he, ”what my brother was, such will I be to you. Consider me as your father; for his memory, and I hope soon, for your own sake, I shall rejoice to be so.”
After an hour, by which time Amber had recovered her serenity, and become almost cheerful, she was consigned to the charge of Mrs Smith the housekeeper, and John Forster hastened back to his chambers and his clients, to make up for so much lost time.
It was not long before the old gentleman discovered that the trouble and expense which he had incurred to please his brother was the occasion of pleasure and gratification. He no longer felt isolated in the world: in short, he had a _home_, where a beaming eye met his return, and an affectionate heart ministered to his wishes; where his well-known rap at the door was a source of delight, and his departure one of regret.
In a few months Amber had entwined herself round the old man's heart; the best masters were procured for her, and all the affection of a doting parent upon an only child was bestowed by him who, when the proposition was made, had declared that ”it was bad enough to maintain children of one's own begetting.”
Bless my soul! how poor authors are obliged to gallop about. Now I must be off again to India, and get on board of the Bombay Castle.
END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.
VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER ONE.
A green and gilded snake had wreathed itself, Who, with her head, nimble in threats, approach'd The opening of his mouth.
SHAKESPEARE.
The Bombay Castle arrived at Madras without further adventure. A few hours after she had anch.o.r.ed, all the pa.s.sengers, receiving kind messages from, or escorted on sh.o.r.e by their relatives or consignees, had landed; all, with the exception of the three Miss Revels, whose anxiety to land was increased by the departure of the others, and the unpleasant situation in which they were placed, by remaining a clog upon Captain Drawlock, who would not quit his s.h.i.+p until he had surrendered up his charge. By inquiry of the dubashes, Captain Drawlock found out that an old Colonel Revel was residing at his Bungalo, about two miles distant from the fort, and supposing him not to be aware of the arrival of his grand-nieces, he despatched Newton Forster to acquaint him with the circ.u.mstance. It was late in the afternoon when Newton arrived at the residence of the colonel, when he perceived immediately that every thing was on the establishment of an old Indian nabob. A double set of palanquin-bearers were stretched under the verandas; syces were fanning the horses with their chowries; tailors and various craftsmen were at work in the shade, while a herd of consumers, butlers, and other Indian domestics, were loitering about, or very busy doing nothing.
It will be necessary, before Newton is introduced to the colonel, that the colonel should be introduced to the reader. He was a man of nearly sixty years of age, forty-five of which, with the exception of occasional furlough, had been pa.s.sed in the country. Having held several lucrative situations for many years, and, although not parsimonious, being very prudent in money concerns, he had ama.s.sed a very large fortune. More than once he had returned to England on leave, and with the full intention of remaining there, if he could be comfortable; but a few months in his native country only made him more anxious to return to India. His habits, his tastes were all eastern; the close hospitality, the cold winter of England, the loss of consequence, naturally resulting when a man mixes in the crowd of London, all disgusted him, and he invariably returned to India long before his furlough had expired. He was a bachelor from choice. When young he had been very cruelly treated by the object of his admiration, who deserted him for a few lacks of rupees, which offered themselves with an old man as their appendage. This had raised his bile against the s.e.x in general, whom he considered as mercenary and treacherous.
His parties were numerous and expensive: but women were never to be seen in his house; and his confirmed dislike to them was the occasion of his seldom visiting, except with those who were like himself, in a state of happy singleness. In other points, he was a liberal, worthy man, and a perfect gentleman, but extremely choleric in his disposition.
Newton addressed himself to one of the butlers, requesting to be announced. The man led the way to a s.p.a.cious hall, coated and floored with chunam, when Newton perceived the colonel, who presented rather a singular spectacle. ”Burra Saib; Saib,” said the Indian; and immediately retired.