consequence. He then called to a servant to fetch him a chair, and
presently left the two ladies together.
Mr. Blifil, hearing the chair ordered, came downstairs to attend
upon his uncle; for he never was deficient in such acts of duty. He
asked his uncle if he was going out, which is a civil way of asking
a man whither he is going: to which the other making no answer, he
again desired to know when he would be pleased to return?- Allworthy
made no answer to this neither, till he was just going into his chair,
and then, turning about, he said- "Harkee, sir, do you find out,
before my return, the letter which your mother sent me on her
death-bed." Allworthy then departed, and left Blifil in a situation to
be envied only by a man who is just going to be hanged.
Chapter 9
A further continuation
Allworthy took an opportunity, whilst he was in the chair, of
reading the letter from Jones to Sophia, which Western delivered
him; and there were some expressions in it concerning himself which
drew tears from his eyes. At length he arrived at Mr. Western's, and
was introduced to Sophia.
When the first ceremonies were past, and the gentleman and lady
had taken their chairs, a silence of some minutes ensued; during which
the latter, who had been prepared for the visit by her father, sat
playing with her fan, and had every mark of confusion both in her
countenance and behaviour. At length Allworthy, who was himself a
little disconcerted, began thus: "I am afraid, Miss Western, my family
hath been the occasion of giving you some uneasiness; to which, I
fear, I have innocently become more instrumental than I intended. Be
assured, madam, had I at first known how disagreeable the proposals
had been, I should not have suffered you to have been so long
persecuted. I hope, therefore, you will not think the design of this
visit is to trouble you with any further solicitations of that kind,
but entirely to relieve you from them."
"Sir," said Sophia, with a little modest hesitation, "this behaviour
is most kind and generous, and such as I could expect only from Mr.
Allworthy; but as you have been so kind to mention this matter, you
will pardon me for saying, it hath, indeed, given me great uneasiness,
and hath been the occasion of my suffering much cruel treatment from a
father, who was, till that unhappy affair, the tenderest and fondest
of all parents. I am convinced, sir, you are too good and generous
to resent my refusal of your nephew. Our inclinations are not in our
own power; and whatever may be his merit, I cannot force them in his
favour." "I assure you, most amiable young lady," said Allworthy, "I
am capable of no such resentment, had the person been my own son, and
had I entertained the highest esteem for him. For you say truly,
madam, we cannot force our inclinations, much less can they be
directed by another." "Oh! sir," answered Sophia, "every word you
speak proves you deserve that good, that great, that benevolent
character the whole world allows you. I assure you, sir, nothing less
than the certain prospect of future misery could have made me resist
the commands of my father." "I sincerely believe you, madam," replied
Allworthy, "and I heartily congratulate you on your prudent foresight,
since by so justifiable a resistance you have avoided misery indeed!"
"You speak now, Mr. Allworthy," cries she, "with a delicacy which few
men are capable of feeling! but surely, in my opinion, to lead our
lives with one to whom we are indifferent must be a state of
wretchedness.- Perhaps that wretchedness would be even increased by a
sense of the merits of an object to whom we cannot give our
affections. If I had married Mr. Blifil--" "Pardon my interrupting
you, madam," answered Allworthy, "but I cannot bear the supposition.-
Believe me, Miss Western, I rejoice from my heart, I rejoice in your
escape.-- I have discovered the wretch for whom you have suffered all
this cruel violence from your father to be a villain." "How, sir!"
cries Sophia- "you must believe this surprizes me."-- "It hath
surprized me, madam," answered Allworthy, "and so it will the world.-
But I have acquainted you with the real truth." "Nothing but truth,"
says Sophia, "can, I am convinced, come from the lips of Mr.
Allworthy.-- Yet, sir, such sudden, such unexpected news-- Discovered,
you say-- may villany be ever so!"-- "You will soon enough hear the
story," cries Allworthy;- "at present let us not mention so detested
a name.- I have another matter of a very serious nature to propose.-
O! Miss Western, I know your vast worth, nor can I so easily part with
the ambition of being allied to it.- I have a near relation, madam, a
young man whose character is, I am convinced, the very opposite to
that of this wretch, and whose fortune I will make equal to what his
was to have been. Could I, madam, hope you would admit a visit from
him?" Sophia, after a minute's silence, answered, "I will deal with
the utmost sincerity with Mr. Allworthy. His character, and the
obligation I have just received from him, demand it. I have determined
at present to listen to no such proposals from any person. My only
desire is to be restored to the affection of my father, and to be
again the mistress of his family. This, sir, I hope to owe to your
good offices. Let me beseech you, let me conjure you, by all the
goodness which I, and all who know you, have experienced, do not, the
very moment when you have released me from one persecution, do not
engage me in another as miserable and as fruitless." "Indeed, Miss
Western," replied Allworthy, "I am capable of no such conduct; and if
this be your resolution, he must submit to the disappointment,
whatever torments he may suffer under it." "I must smile now, Mr.
Allworthy," answered Sophia, "when you mention the torments of a man
whom I do not know, and who can consequently have so little
acquaintance with me." "Pardon me, dear young lady," cries Allworthy,
"I begin now to be afraid he hath had too much acquaintance for the
repose of his future days; since, if ever man was capable of a
sincere, violent, and noble passion, such, I am convinced, is my
unhappy nephew's for Miss Western." "A nephew of your's, Mr.
Allworthy!" answered Sophia. "It is surely strange. I never heard of
him before." "Indeed, madam," cries Allworthy, "it is only the
circumstance of his being my nephew to which you are a stranger, and
which, till this day, was a secret to me.- Mr. Jones, who has long
loved you, he! he is my nephew!" "Mr. Jones your nephew, sir!" cries
Sophia, "can it be possible?"- "He is, indeed, madam," answered
Allworthy; "he is my own sister's son- as such I shall always own him;
nor am I ashamed of owning him. I am much more ashamed of my past
behaviour to him; but I was as ignorant of his merit as of his birth.
Indeed, Miss Western, I have used him cruelly-- Indeed I have."-- Here
the good man wiped his eyes, and after a short pause proceeded- "I
never shall be able to reward him for his sufferings without your
assistance.-- Believe me, most amiable young lady, I must have a great
esteem of that offering which I make to your worth. I know he hath
been guilty of faults; but there is great goodness of heart at the
bottom. Believe me, madam, there is." Here he stopped, seeming to
expect an answer, which he presently received from Sophia, after she
had a little recovered herself from the hurry of spirits into which so
strange and sudden information had thrown her: "I sincerely wish you
joy, sir, of a discovery in which you seem to have such satisfaction.
I doubt not but you will have all the comfort you can promise yourself
from it. The young gentleman hath certainly a thousand good qualities,
which makes it impossible he should not behave well to such an
uncle."- "I hope, madam," said Allworthy, "he hath those good
qualities which must make him a good husband.- He must, I am sure, be
of all men the most abandoned, if a lady of your merit should
condescend--" "You must pardon me, Mr. Allworthy," answered Sophia; "I
cannot listen to a proposal of this kind. Mr. Jones, I am convinced,
hath much merit; but I shall never receive Mr. Jones as one who is to
be my husband- Upon my honour I never will."- "Pardon me, madam,"
cries Allworthy, "if I am a little surprized, after what I have heard
from Mr. Western-- I hope the unhappy young man hath done nothing to
forfeit your good opinion, if he had ever the honour to enjoy it.
Perhaps, he may have been misrepresented to you, as he was to me. The
same villany may have injured him everywhere.- He is no murderer, I
assure you; as he hath been called." "Mr. Allworthy," answered Sophia,
"I have told you my resolution. I wonder not at what my father hath
told you; but, whatever his apprehensions or fears have been, if I
know my heart, I have given no occasion for them; since it hath always
been a fixed principle with me, never to have married without his
consent. This is, I think, the duty of a child to a parent; and this,
I hope, nothing could ever have prevailed with me to swerve from. I do
not indeed conceive that the authority of any parent can oblige us to
marry in direct opposition to our inclinations. To avoid a force of
this kind, which I had reason to suspect, I left my father's house,
and sought protection elsewhere. This is the truth of my story; and if
the world, or my father, carry my intentions any farther, my own
conscience will acquit me." "I hear you, Miss Western," cries
Allworthy, "with admiration. I admire the justness of your sentiments;
but surely there is more in this. I am cautious of offending you,
young lady; but am I to look on all which I have hitherto heard or
seen as a dream only? And have you suffered so much cruelty from your
father on the account of a man to whom you have been always absolutely
indifferent?" "I beg, Mr. Allworthy," answered Sophia, "you will not
insist on my reasons;- yes, I have suffered indeed; I will not, Mr.
Allworthy, conceal-- I will be very sincere with you-I own I had a
great opinion of Mr. Jones- I believe- I know I have suffered for my
opinion- I have been treated cruelly by my aunt, as well as by my
father; but that is now past- I beg I may not be farther pressed; for,
whatever hath been, my resolution is now fixed. Your nephew, sir, hath
many virtues- he hath great virtues, Mr. Allworthy. I question not but
he will do you honour in the world, and make you happy."- "I wish I
could make him so, madam," replied Allworthy; "but that I am convinced
is only in your power. It is that conviction which hath made me so
earnest a solicitor in his favour." "You are deceived; indeed, sir,
you are deceived," said Sophia. "I hope not by him. It is sufficient
to have deceived me. Mr. Allworthy, I must insist on being pressed no
farther on this subject. I should be sorry- nay, I will not injure him
in your favour. I wish Mr. Jones very well. I sincerely wish him well;
and I repeat it again to you, whatever demerit he may have to me, I am
certain he hath many good qualities. I do not disown my former
thoughts; but nothing can ever recal them. At present there is not a
man upon earth whom I would more resolutely reject than Mr. Jones; nor
would the addresses of Mr. Blifil himself be less agreeable to me."
Western had been long impatient for the event of this conference,
and was just now arrived at the door to listen; when, having heard the
last sentiments of his daughter's heart, he lost all temper, and,
bursting open the door in a rage, cried out- "It is a lie! It is a
d--n'd lie! It is all owing to that d--n'd rascal Jones; and if she
could get at un, she'd ha un any hour of the day." Here Allworthy
interposed, and addressing himself to the squire with some anger in
his look, he said, "Mr. Western, you have not kept your word with
me. You promised to abstain from all violence."- "Why, so I did,"
cries Western, "as long as it was possible; but to hear a wench
telling such confounded lies-- Zounds! doth she think, if she can make
vools of other volk, she can make one of me?-- No, no, I know her
better than thee dost." "I am sorry to tell you, sir," answered
Allworthy, "it doth not appear, by your behaviour to this young lady,
that you know her at all. I ask pardon for what I say: but I think our
intimacy, your own desires, and the occasion justify me. She is your
daughter, Mr. Western, and I think she doth honour to your name. If I
was capable of envy, I should sooner envy you on this account than any
other man whatever."- "Odrabbit it!" cries the squire, "I wish she was
thine, with all my heart- wouldst soon be glad to be rid of the
trouble o' her." "Indeed, my good friend," answered Allworthy, "you
yourself are the cause of all the trouble you complain of. Place that
confidence in the young lady which she so well deserves, and I am
certain you will be the happiest father on earth."-- "I confidence in
her?" cries the squire. "'Sblood! what confidence can I place in
her, when she won't do as I would ha' her? Let her gi' but her consent
to marry as I would ha' her, and I'll place as much confidence in
her as wouldst ha' me."-- "You have no right, neighbour," answered
Allworthy, "to insist on any such consent. A negative voice your
daughter allows you, and God and nature have thought proper to allow
you no more."- "A negative voice!" cries the squire. "Ay! ay! I'll
