“I am extremely happy,” said he, as he advanced to meet his guests, “that my worthy and respected friend Father Morris, has procured me the honour of such illustrious visitors. The holy father has informed me of the sublime purpose that animates your bosoms, and leads you to traverse realms of air, to explore the hitherto undiscovered secrets of the grave. His partiality for me has also led him to imagine that my humble means may perchance prove conducive to so great an end, and he has requested me to give you all the assistance in my power to promote the gigantic objects you have in view. Thus you may rest assured, no efforts shall be wanting on my part to fulfil his wishes, and as, though insignificant in myself, I am so happy as to be honoured by the protection and favour of her Majesty the Queen, my most gracious sovereign; and also as my feeble attempts to promote the public good have been rewarded by the gratitude of the people; it may perchance be in my power to serve you; and in the meantime I hope you will do me the honour to partake of such hospitality as my humble mansion can afford.” So saying, Lord Gustavus led the way through a sumptuous suite of rooms, to one where an elegant cold collation was laid out, of which he invited his guests to partake. Nothing could be more splendid than the furniture and embellishments of this apartment. The rooms were hung with crimson silk, trimmed with gold; valuable paintings decorated the walls; statues of inestimable price filled each corner, and magnificent mirrors increased tenfold the magic of the scene. Lord Gustavus secretly enjoyed the astonishment and admiration painted upon the countenances of his guests; and whilst he openly affected to talk of his “poor house,” and his “humble attempts to entertain them,” etc. his heart covertly exalted in the grandeur around him, and his eyes sparkled with pleasure at the effect he saw it produced upon the strangers. Nothing makes one so much disposed to be in a good humour with the world, as being in a good humour with oneself; and nothing is so certain to produce that delightful sensation, as to see what we possess excite the admiration of others. Thus, as the flattery conveyed by looks far outweighs that expressed by words, and as the looks of Edric and the doctor unequivocally declared their sentiments, Lord Gustavus was quite enchanted with his visitors, and spared no pains to render them equally happy as himself. He ordered a large apartment to be prepared for the doctor, that he might make his arrangements for the intended Egyptian expedition quite at his ease; he commanded his servants to obey his directions implicitly, and he directed tradesmen to supply everything that might be wanted at his own expense.
Having thus given the doctor carte blanche, he next turned his attention to Edric, and, finding it was his first visit to London, volunteered to show him all the wonders of that immense metropolis, which then, spreading enormously in every direction, seemed like the fabled monster of the Indians, to stretch its enormous arms on every side and swallow up all the hapless villages which were so unfortunate as to fall within its reach.
Sir Ambrose being too proud to make any enquiries respecting his rebellious son, Edric’s departure was not suspected by his father till the arrival of Dr. Coleman on the following day. As Father Morris had predicted, the worthy baronet was become much more cool, and by the persuasions of Dr. Coleman, at length consented to see his son, and not to insist upon his marrying Rosabella, until he had given the subject more mature consideration. After this concession, his astonishment and indignation, when he learnt the truth, may be easier conceived than described. Nothing is so mortifying to a passionate man, as to find his intended kindness of no avail; and Sir Ambrose, in the transport of his rage, vowed never to see his offending son again.
“Let me implore you to consider what you are doing!” said Dr. Coleman, when he heard this oath.
“Oh, my dear uncle!” cried Clara, clinging to his knees, “don’t say that you will never forgive him.”
“I never will!” exclaimed the enraged baronet, “I swear by all my hopes of happiness, here and hereafter, that I never will see his face again.”
“You will repent this rashness,” said Dr. Coleman, “when it is too late. I feel confident there must be some deception in the business.”
“Deception!” cried Sir Ambrose, eagerly, “by whom can it have been practised, and for what purpose? Pray explain yourself.”
“You will perhaps feel offended at what I am about to say, and probably will not believe me—but in my opinion—”
Here the worthy doctor was interrupted by the appearance of a round, fat, rosy-looking face, which just popped in for a moment at the door of the apartment, and was then instantly withdrawn.
“Good Heavens! I should surely know those features,” exclaimed Dr. Coleman, “and yet I hope—I trust—it cannot be.”
“Who is there?” cried Sir Ambrose, pettishly, “what do you want? and why are you ashamed of showing your face?”
That jolly face again made its appearance, but it was now accompanied by a portly body, which certainly did it no discredit, though it was clad in the garments of a priest.
“Sure and it is not my face that I’d be ashamed of showing, anyhow,” said
