"Would I not do this, Julia? Nay, were I owner of the necessary
amount myself, believe me, it should not be withheld."
"I do believe you, Edward; but"--and here her voice sunk to a
whisper--"you must try again, try again and again--for I think that
father knows the danger, though mother does not; and I think--I
hope--he will be firm enough, when you press him, and warn him of
the danger, to do as you wish him."
"I am afraid not, Julia. Your mother--"
"Do not fear; hope--hope all, dear Edward; for, to confess to you,
I KNOW that they are anxious to have your support--they said as
much. Nay, why should I hide anything from you? They sent me here
to see--to speak with you, and--"
"To see what your charms could do to persuade me to be a villain.
Julia! Julia! did you think to do this--to have me be the thing
which they would make me?"
"No! no!--Heaven forbid, dear Edward, that you should fancy that
any such desire had a place, even for a moment, in my mind. No! I
knew not that the case involved any but mere money considerations.
I knew not that--"
"Enough! Say no more, Julia! I do not think that you would counsel
me to my own shame."
"No! no! You do me only justice. But, Edward, you will save my
father! You will try--you will see him again--"
"What! to suffer again the open scorn, the declared doubts of my
friendship and integrity, which is the constant language of your
mother? Can it be that you would desire that I should do this--nay,
seek it?"
"For my poor father's sake!" she cried, gaspingly.
But I shook my head sternly.
"For mine, then--for mine! for mine!"
She threw herself into my arms, and clung to me until I promised
all that she required. And as I promised her, so I strove with her
father. I used every argument, resorted to every mode of persuasion,
hut all was of no avail. Mr. Clifford was under the rigid, the iron
government of his fate! His wife was one of those miserably silly
women--born, according to Iago-"To suckle fools and chronicle small beer"-who, raised to the sudden control of unexpected wealth, becomes
insane upon it, and is blind, deaf, and dumb, to all counsel or
reason which suggests the possibility of its loss. From the very
moment when Mr. Clifford spoke of selling out house, horses, and
carriage, as the inevitable result which must follow his adoption of
my recommendation, she declared herself against it at all hazards,
particularly when her husband assured her that "the glorious uncertainties
of the law" afforded a possibility of his escape with less loss.
The loss of money was, with her, the item of most consideration;
her mind was totally insensible to that of reputation. She was
willing to make this compromise with me, as a sort of alternative,
for, in that case, there would be no diminution of attendance
and expense--no loss of rank and equipage. We should all live
together--how harmoniously, one may imagine--but the grandeur and
the state would still be intact and unimpaired. Even for this,
however, she was not prepared, when she discovered that there was
no certainty that my alliance would bring immunity to her husband.
How this notion got even partially into his head, I know not;
unless in consequence of a growing imbecility of intellect, which
in a short time after betrayed itself more strikingly. But of this
in its own place.