BROTHER JACOB

CHAPTER I

Among the many fatalities attending the bloom of young desire, that ofblindly taking to the confectionery line has not, perhaps, beensufficiently considered. How is the son of a British yeoman, who hasbeen fed principally on salt pork and yeast dumplings, to know that thereis satiety for the human stomach even in a paradise of glass jars full ofsugared almonds and pink lozenges, and that the tedium of life can reacha pitch where plum-buns at discretion cease to offer the slightestexcitement? Or how, at the tender age when a confectioner seems to him avery prince whom all the world must envy--who breakfasts on macaroons, dines on meringues, sups on twelfth-cake, and fills up the intermediatehours with sugar-candy or peppermint--how is he to foresee the day of sadwisdom, when he will discern that the confectioner's calling is notsocially influential, or favourable to a soaring ambition? I have knowna man who turned out to have a metaphysical genius, incautiously, in theperiod of youthful buoyancy, commence his career as a dancing-master; andyou may imagine the use that was made of this initial mistake byopponents who felt themselves bound to warn the public against hisdoctrine of the Inconceivable. He could not give up his dancing-lessons, because he made his bread by them, and metaphysics would not have foundhim in so much as salt to his bread. It was really the same with Mr. David Faux and the confectionery business. His uncle, the butler at thegreat house close by Brigford, had made a pet of him in his earlyboyhood, and it was on a visit to this uncle that the confectioners'shops in that brilliant town had, on a single day, fired his tenderimagination. He carried home the pleasing illusion that a confectionermust be at once the happiest and the foremost of men, since the things hemade were not only the most beautiful to behold, but the very besteating, and such as the Lord Mayor must always order largely for hisprivate recreation; so that when his father declared he must be put to atrade, David chose his line without a moment's hesitation; and, with arashness inspired by a sweet tooth, wedded himself irrevocably toconfectionery. Soon, however, the tooth lost its relish and fell intoblank indifference; and all the while, his mind expanded, his ambitiontook new shapes, which could hardly be satisfied within the sphere hisyouthful ardour had chosen. But what was he to do? He was a young manof much mental activity, and, above all, gifted with a spirit ofcontrivance; but then, his faculties would not tell with great effect inany other medium than that of candied sugars, conserves, and pastry. Saywhat you will about the identity of the reasoning process in all branchesof thought, or about the advantage of coming to subjects with a freshmind, the adjustment of butter to flour, and of heat to pastry, is _not_the best preparation for the office of prime minister; besides, in thepresent imperfectly-organized state of society, there are socialbarriers. David could invent delightful things in the way of drop-cakes, and he had the widest views of the sugar department; but in otherdirections he certainly felt hampered by the want of knowledge andpractical skill; and the world is so inconveniently constituted, that thevague consciousness of being a fine fellow is no guarantee of success inany line of business. 

This difficulty pressed with some severity on Mr. David Faux, even beforehis apprenticeship was ended. His soul swelled with an impatient sensethat he ought to become something very remarkable--that it was quite outof the question for him to put up with a narrow lot as other men did: hescorned the idea that he could accept an average. He was sure there wasnothing average about him: even such a person as Mrs. Tibbits, the washer-woman, perceived it, and probably had a preference for his linen. Atthat particular period he was weighing out gingerbread nuts; but such ananomaly could not continue. No position could be suited to Mr. DavidFaux that was not in the highest degree easy to the flesh and flatteringto the spirit. If he had fallen on the present times, and enjoyed theadvantages of a Mechanic's Institute, he would certainly have taken toliterature and have written reviews; but his education had not beenliberal. He had read some novels from the adjoining circulating library, and had even bought the story of _Inkle and Yarico_, which had made himfeel very sorry for poor Mr. Inkle; so that his ideas might not have beenbelow a certain mark of the literary calling; but his spelling anddiction were too unconventional. 

When a man is not adequately appreciated or comfortably placed in his owncountry, his thoughts naturally turn towards foreign climes; and David'simagination circled round and round the utmost limits of his geographicalknowledge, in search of a country where a young gentleman of pastyvisage, lipless mouth, and stumpy hair, would be likely to be receivedwith the hospitable enthusiasm which he had a right to expect. Having ageneral idea of America as a country where the population was chieflyblack, it appeared to him the most propitious destination for an emigrantwho, to begin with, had the broad and easily recognizable merit ofwhiteness; and this idea gradually took such strong possession of himthat Satan seized the opportunity of suggesting to him that he mightemigrate under easier circumstances, if he supplied himself with a littlemoney from his master's till. But that evil spirit, whose understanding, I am convinced, has been much overrated, quite wasted his time on thisoccasion. David would certainly have liked well to have some of hismaster's money in his pocket, if he had been sure his master would havebeen the only man to suffer for it; but he was a cautious youth, andquite determined to run no risks on his own account. So he stayed outhis apprenticeship, and committed no act of dishonesty that was at alllikely to be discovered, reserving his plan of emigration for a futureopportunity. And the circumstances under which he carried it out were inthis wise. Having been at home a week or two partaking of the familybeans, he had used his leisure in ascertaining a fact which was ofconsiderable importance to him, namely, that his mother had a small sumin guineas painfully saved from her maiden perquisites, and kept in thecorner of a drawer where her baby-linen had reposed for the last twentyyears--ever since her son David had taken to his feet, with a slightpromise of bow-legs which had not been altogether unfulfilled. Mr. Faux, senior, had told his son very frankly, that he must not look to being setup in business by _him_: with seven sons, and one of them a very healthyand well-developed idiot, who consumed a dumpling about eight inches indiameter every day, it was pretty well if they got a hundred apiece athis death. Under these circumstances, what was David to do? It wascertainly hard that he should take his mother's money; but he saw noother ready means of getting any, and it was not to be expected that ayoung man of his merit should put up with inconveniences that could beavoided. Besides, it is not robbery to take property belonging to yourmother: she doesn't prosecute you. And David was very well behaved tohis mother; he comforted her by speaking highly of himself to her, andassuring her that he never fell into the vices he saw practised by otheryouths of his own age, and that he was particularly fond of honesty. Ifhis mother would have given him her twenty guineas as a reward of thisnoble disposition, he really would not have stolen them from her, and itwould have been more agreeable to his feelings. Nevertheless, to anactive mind like David's, ingenuity is not without its pleasures: it wasrather an interesting occupation to become stealthily acquainted with thewards of his mother's simple key (not in the least like Chubb's patent), and to get one that would do its work equally well; and also to arrange alittle drama by which he would escape suspicion, and run no risk offorfeiting the prospective hundred at his father's death, which would beconvenient in the improbable case of his _not_ making a large fortune inthe "Indies. "

First, he spoke freely of his intention to start shortly for Liverpooland take ship for America; a resolution which cost his good mother somepain, for, after Jacob the idiot, there was not one of her sons to whomher heart clung more than to her youngest-born, David. Next, it appearedto him that Sunday afternoon, when everybody was gone to church exceptJacob and the cowboy, was so singularly favourable an opportunity forsons who wanted to appropriate their mothers' guineas, that he halfthought it must have been kindly intended by Providence for suchpurposes. Especially the third Sunday in Lent; because Jacob had beenout on one of his occasional wanderings for the last two days; and David, being a timid young man, had a considerable dread and hatred of Jacob, asof a large personage who went about habitually with a pitchfork in hishand. 

Nothing could be easier, then, than for David on this Sunday afternoon todecline going to church, on the ground that he was going to tea at Mr. Lunn's, whose pretty daughter Sally had been an early flame of his, and, when the church-goers were at a safe distance, to abstract the guineasfrom their wooden box and slip them into a small canvas bag--nothingeasier than to call to the cowboy that he was going, and tell him to keepan eye on the house for fear of Sunday tramps. David thought it would beeasy, too, to get to a small thicket and bury his bag in a hole he hadalready made and covered up under the roots of an old hollow ash, and hehad, in fact, found the hole without a moment's difficulty, had uncoveredit, and was about gently to drop the bag into it, when the sound of alarge body rustling towards him with something like a bellow was such asurprise to David, who, as a gentleman gifted with much contrivance, wasnaturally only prepared for what he expected, that instead of droppingthe bag gently he let it fall so as to make it untwist and vomit forththe shining guineas. In the same moment he looked up and saw his dearbrother Jacob close upon him, holding the pitchfork so that the brightsmooth prongs were a yard in advance of his own body, and about a footoff David's. (A learned friend, to whom I once narrated this history, observed that it was David's guilt which made these prongs formidable, and that the "mens nil conscia sibi" strips a pitchfork of all terrors. Ithought this idea so valuable, that I obtained his leave to use it oncondition of suppressing his name. ) Nevertheless, David did not entirelylose his presence of mind; for in that case he would have sunk on theearth or started backward; whereas he kept his ground and smiled atJacob, who nodded his head up and down, and said, "Hoich, Zavy!" in apainfully equivocal manner. David's heart was beating audibly, and if hehad had any lips they would have been pale; but his mental activity, instead of being paralysed, was stimulated. While he was inwardlypraying (he always prayed when he was much frightened)--"Oh, save me thisonce, and I'll never get into danger again!"--he was thrusting his handinto his pocket in search of a box of yellow lozenges, which he hadbrought with him from Brigford among other delicacies of the sameportable kind, as a means of conciliating proud beauty, and moreparticularly the beauty of Miss Sarah Lunn. Not one of these delicacieshad he ever offered to poor Jacob, for David was not a young man to wastehis jujubes and barley-sugar in giving pleasure to people from whom heexpected nothing. But an idiot with equivocal intentions and a pitchforkis as well worth flattering and cajoling as if he were Louis Napoleon. SoDavid, with a promptitude equal to the occasion, drew out his box ofyellow lozenges, lifted the lid, and performed a pantomime with his mouthand fingers, which was meant to imply that he was delighted to see hisdear brother Jacob, and seized the opportunity of making him a smallpresent, which he would find particularly agreeable to the taste. Jacob, you understand, was not an intense idiot, but within a certain limitedrange knew how to choose the good and reject the evil: he took onelozenge, by way of test, and sucked it as if he had been a philosopher;then, in as great an ecstacy at its new and complex savour as Caliban atthe taste of Trinculo's wine, chuckled and stroked this suddenlybeneficent brother, and held out his hand for more; for, except in fitsof anger, Jacob was not ferocious or needlessly predatory. David'scourage half returned, and he left off praying; pouring a dozen lozengesinto Jacob's palm, and trying to look very fond of him. He congratulatedhimself that he had formed the plan of going to see Miss Sally Lunn thisafternoon, and that, as a consequence, he had brought with him thesepropitiatory delicacies: he was certainly a lucky fellow; indeed, it wasalways likely Providence should be fonder of him than of otherapprentices, and since he _was_ to be interrupted, why, an idiot waspreferable to any other sort of witness. For the first time in his life, David thought he saw the advantage of idiots. 

As for Jacob, he had thrust his pitchfork into the ground, and had thrownhimself down beside it, in thorough abandonment to the unprecedentedpleasure of having five lozenges in his mouth at once, blinkingmeanwhile, and making inarticulate sounds of gustative content. He hadnot yet given any sign of noticing the guineas, but in seating himself hehad laid his broad right hand on them, and unconsciously kept it in thatposition, absorbed in the sensations of his palate. If he could only bekept so occupied with the lozenges as not to see the guineas before Davidcould manage to cover them! That was David's best hope of safety; forJacob knew his mother's guineas; it had been part of their commonexperience as boys to be allowed to look at these handsome coins, andrattle them in their box on high days and holidays, and among all Jacob'snarrow experiences as to money, this was likely to be the most memorable. 

"Here, Jacob, " said David, in an insinuating tone, handing the box tohim, "I'll give 'em all to you. Run!--make haste!--else somebody'll comeand take 'em. "

David, not having studied the psychology of idiots, was not aware thatthey are not to be wrought upon by imaginative fears. Jacob took the boxwith his left hand, but saw no necessity for running away. Was ever apromising young man wishing to lay the foundation of his fortune byappropriating his mother's guineas obstructed by such a day-mare as this?But the moment must come when Jacob would move his right hand to draw offthe lid of the tin box, and then David would sweep the guineas into thehole with the utmost address and swiftness, and immediately seat himselfupon them. Ah, no! It's of no use to have foresight when you aredealing with an idiot: he is not to be calculated upon. Jacob's righthand was given to vague clutching and throwing; it suddenly clutched theguineas as if they had been so many pebbles, and was raised in anattitude which promised to scatter them like seed over a distant bramble, when, from some prompting or other--probably of an unwonted sensation--itpaused, descended to Jacob's knee, and opened slowly under the inspectionof Jacob's dull eyes. David began to pray again, but immediatelydesisted--another resource having occurred to him. 

"Mother! zinnies!" exclaimed the innocent Jacob. Then, looking at David, he said, interrogatively, "Box?"

"Hush! hush!" said David, summoning all his ingenuity in this severestrait. "See, Jacob!" He took the tin box from his brother's hand, andemptied it of the lozenges, returning half of them to Jacob, but secretlykeeping the rest in his own hand. Then he held out the empty box, andsaid, "Here's the box, Jacob! The box for the guineas!" gently sweepingthem from Jacob's palm into the box. 

This procedure was not objectionable to Jacob; on the contrary, theguineas clinked so pleasantly as they fell, that he wished for arepetition of the sound, and seizing the box, began to rattle it verygleefully. David, seizing the opportunity, deposited his reserve oflozenges in the ground and hastily swept some earth over them. "Look, Jacob!" he said, at last. Jacob paused from his clinking, and lookedinto the hole, while David began to scratch away the earth, as if indoubtful expectation. When the lozenges were laid bare, he took them outone by one, and gave them to Jacob. "Hush!" he said, in a loud whisper, "Tell nobody--all for Jacob--hush--sh--sh! Put guineas in thehole--they'll come out like this!" To make the lesson more complete, hetook a guinea, and lowering it into the hole, said, "Put in _so_. " Then, as he took the last lozenge out, he said, "Come out _so_, " and put thelozenge into Jacob's hospitable mouth. 

Jacob turned his head on one side, looked first at his brother and thenat the hole, like a reflective monkey, and, finally, laid the box ofguineas in the hole with much decision. David made haste to add everyone of the stray coins, put on the lid, and covered it well with earth, saying in his meet coaxing tone--

"Take 'm out to-morrow, Jacob; all for Jacob! Hush--sh--sh!"

Jacob, to whom this once indifferent brother had all at once become asort of sweet-tasted fetish, stroked David's best coat with his adhesivefingers, and then hugged him with an accompaniment of that mingledchuckling and gurgling by which he was accustomed to express the milderpassions. But if he had chosen to bite a small morsel out of hisbeneficent brother's cheek, David would have been obliged to bear it. 

And here I must pause, to point out to you the short-sightedness of humancontrivance. This ingenious young man, Mr. David Faux, thought he hadachieved a triumph of cunning when he had associated himself in hisbrother's rudimentary mind with the flavour of yellow lozenges. But hehad yet to learn that it is a dreadful thing to make an idiot fond ofyou, when you yourself are not of an affectionate disposition: especiallyan idiot with a pitchfork--obviously a difficult friend to shake off byrough usage. 

It may seem to you rather a blundering contrivance for a clever young manto bury the guineas. But, if everything had turned out as David hadcalculated, you would have seen that his plan was worthy of his talents. The guineas would have lain safely in the earth while the theft wasdiscovered, and David, with the calm of conscious innocence, would havelingered at home, reluctant to say good-bye to his dear mother while shewas in grief about her guineas; till at length, on the eve of hisdeparture, he would have disinterred them in the strictest privacy, andcarried them on his own person without inconvenience. But David, youperceive, had reckoned without his host, or, to speak more precisely, without his idiot brother--an item of so uncertain and fluctuating acharacter, that I doubt whether he would not have puzzled the astuteheroes of M. De Balzac, whose foresight is so remarkably at home in thefuture. 

It was clear to David now that he had only one alternative before him: hemust either renounce the guineas, by quietly putting them back in hismother's drawer (a course not unattended with difficulty); or he mustleave more than a suspicion behind him, by departing early the nextmorning without giving notice, and with the guineas in his pocket. Forif he gave notice that he was going, his mother, he knew, would insist onfetching from her box of guineas the three she had always promised him ashis share; indeed, in his original plan, he had counted on this as ameans by which the theft would be discovered under circumstances thatwould themselves speak for his innocence; but now, as I need hardlyexplain, that well-combined plan was completely frustrated. Even ifDavid could have bribed Jacob with perpetual lozenges, an idiot's secrecyis itself betrayal. He dared not even go to tea at Mr. Lunn's, for inthat case he would have lost sight of Jacob, who, in his impatience forthe crop of lozenges, might scratch up the box again while he was absent, and carry it home--depriving him at once of reputation and guineas. No!he must think of nothing all the rest of this day, but of coaxing Jacoband keeping him out of mischief. It was a fatiguing and anxious eveningto David; nevertheless, he dared not go to sleep without tying a piece ofstring to his thumb and great toe, to secure his frequent waking; for hemeant to be up with the first peep of dawn, and be far out of reachbefore breakfast-time. His father, he thought, would certainly cut himoff with a shilling; but what then? Such a striking young man as hewould be sure to be well received in the West Indies: in foreigncountries there are always openings--even for cats. It was probable thatsome Princess Yarico would want him to marry her, and make him presentsof very large jewels beforehand; after which, he needn't marry her unlesshe liked. David had made up his mind not to steal any more, even frompeople who were fond of him: it was an unpleasant way of making yourfortune in a world where you were likely to surprised in the act bybrothers. Such alarms did not agree with David's constitution, and hehad felt so much nausea this evening that no doubt his liver wasaffected. Besides, he would have been greatly hurt not to be thoughtwell of in the world: he always meant to make a figure, and be thoughtworthy of the best seats and the best morsels. 

Ruminating to this effect on the brilliant future in reserve for him, David by the help of his check-string kept himself on the alert to seizethe time of earliest dawn for his rising and departure. His brothers, ofcourse, were early risers, but he should anticipate them by at least anhour and a half, and the little room which he had to himself as only anoccasional visitor, had its window over the horse-block, so that he couldslip out through the window without the least difficulty. Jacob, thehorrible Jacob, had an awkward trick of getting up before everybody else, to stem his hunger by emptying the milk-bowl that was "duly set" for him;but of late he had taken to sleeping in the hay-loft, and if he came intothe house, it would be on the opposite side to that from which David wasmaking his exit. There was no need to think of Jacob; yet David wasliberal enough to bestow a curse on him--it was the only thing he everdid bestow gratuitously. His small bundle of clothes was ready packed, and he was soon treading lightly on the steps of the horse-block, soonwalking at a smart pace across the fields towards the thicket. It wouldtake him no more than two minutes to get out the box; he could make outthe tree it was under by the pale strip where the bark was off, althoughthe dawning light was rather dimmer in the thicket. But what, in thename of--burnt pastry--was that large body with a staff planted besideit, close at the foot of the ash-tree? David paused, not to make up hismind as to the nature of the apparition--he had not the happiness ofdoubting for a moment that the staff was Jacob's pitchfork--but to gatherthe self-command necessary for addressing his brother with a sufficientlyhoneyed accent. Jacob was absorbed in scratching up the earth, and hadnot heard David's approach. 

"I say, Jacob, " said David in a loud whisper, just as the tin box waslifted out of the hole. 

Jacob looked up, and discerning his sweet-flavoured brother, nodded andgrinned in the dim light in a way that made him seem to David like atriumphant demon. If he had been of an impetuous disposition, he wouldhave snatched the pitchfork from the ground and impaled this fraternaldemon. But David was by no means impetuous; he was a young man greatlygiven to calculate consequences, a habit which has been held to be thefoundation of virtue. But somehow it had not precisely that effect inDavid: he calculated whether an action would harm himself, or whether itwould only harm other people. In the former case he was very timid aboutsatisfying his immediate desires, but in the latter he would risk theresult with much courage. 

"Give it me, Jacob, " he said, stooping down and patting his brother. "Letus see. "

Jacob, finding the lid rather tight, gave the box to his brother inperfect faith. David raised the lids and shook his head, while Jacob puthis finger in and took out a guinea to taste whether the metamorphosisinto lozenges was complete and satisfactory. 

"No, Jacob; too soon, too soon, " said David, when the guinea had beentasted. "Give it me; we'll go and bury it somewhere else; we'll put itin yonder, " he added, pointing vaguely toward the distance. 

David screwed on the lid, while Jacob, looking grave, rose and graspedhis pitchfork. Then, seeing David's bundle, he snatched it, like a tooofficious Newfoundland, stuck his pitchfork into it and carried it overhis shoulder in triumph as he accompanied David and the box out of thethicket. 

What on earth was David to do? It would have been easy to frown atJacob, and kick him, and order him to get away; but David dared as soonhave kicked the bull. Jacob was quiet as long as he was treatedindulgently; but on the slightest show of anger, he became unmanageable, and was liable to fits of fury which would have made him formidable evenwithout his pitchfork. There was no mastery to be obtained over himexcept by kindness or guile. David tried guile. 

"Go, Jacob, " he said, when they were out of the thicket--pointing towardsthe house as he spoke; "go and fetch me a spade--a spade. But give _me_the bundle, " he added, trying to reach it from the fork, where it hunghigh above Jacob's tall shoulder. 

But Jacob showed as much alacrity in obeying as a wasp shows in leaving asugar-basin. Near David, he felt himself in the vicinity of lozenges: hechuckled and rubbed his brother's back, brandishing the bundle higher outof reach. David, with an inward groan, changed his tactics, and walkedon as fast as he could. It was not safe to linger. Jacob would gettired of following him, or, at all events, could be eluded. If theycould once get to the distant highroad, a coach would overtake them, David would mount it, having previously by some ingenious means securedhis bundle, and then Jacob might howl and flourish his pitchfork as muchas he liked. Meanwhile he was under the fatal necessity of being verykind to this ogre, and of providing a large breakfast for him when theystopped at a roadside inn. It was already three hours since they hadstarted, and David was tired. Would no coach be coming up soon? heinquired. No coach for the next two hours. But there was a carrier'scart to come immediately, on its way to the next town. If he could slipout, even leaving his bundle behind, and get into the cart without Jacob!But there was a new obstacle. Jacob had recently discovered a remnant ofsugar-candy in one of his brother's tail-pockets; and, since then, hadcautiously kept his hold on that limb of the garment, perhaps with anexpectation that there would be a further development of sugar-candyafter a longer or shorter interval. Now every one who has worn a coatwill understand the sensibilities that must keep a man from starting awayin a hurry when there is a grasp on his coat-tail. David looked forwardto being well received among strangers, but it might make a difference ifhe had only one tail to his coat. 

He felt himself in a cold perspiration. He could walk no more: he mustget into the cart and let Jacob get in with him. Presently a cheeringidea occurred to him: after so large a breakfast, Jacob would be sure togo to sleep in the cart; you see at once that David meant to seize hisbundle, jump out, and be free. His expectation was partly fulfilled:Jacob did go to sleep in the cart, but it was in a peculiar attitude--itwas with his arms tightly fastened round his dear brother's body; and ifever David attempted to move, the grasp tightened with the force of anaffectionate boa-constrictor. 

"Th' innicent's fond on you, " observed the carrier, thinking that Davidwas probably an amiable brother, and wishing to pay him a compliment. 

David groaned. The ways of thieving were not ways of pleasantness. Oh, why had he an idiot brother? Oh, why, in general, was the world soconstituted that a man could not take his mother's guineas comfortably?David became grimly speculative. 

Copious dinner at noon for Jacob; but little dinner, because littleappetite, for David. Instead of eating, he plied Jacob with beer; forthrough this liberality he descried a hope. Jacob fell into a deadsleep, at last, without having his arms round David, who paid thereckoning, took his bundle, and walked off. In another half-hour he wason the coach on his way to Liverpool, smiling the smile of the triumphantwicked. He was rid of Jacob--he was bound for the Indies, where agullible princess awaited him. He would never steal any more, but therewould be no need; he would show himself so deserving, that people wouldmake him presents freely. He must give up the notion of his father'slegacy; but it was not likely he would ever want that trifle; and even ifhe did--why, it was a compensation to think that in being for everdivided from his family he was divided from Jacob, more terrible thanGorgon or Demogorgon to David's timid green eyes. Thank heaven, heshould never see Jacob any more!

CHAPTER II

It was nearly six years after the departure of Mr. David Faux for theWest Indies, that the vacant shop in the market-place at Grimworth wasunderstood to have been let to the stranger with a sallow complexion anda buff cravat, whose first appearance had caused some excitement in thebar of the Woolpack, where he had called to wait for the coach. 

Grimworth, to a discerning eye, was a good place to set up shopkeepingin. There was no competition in it at present; the Church-people hadtheir own grocer and draper; the Dissenters had theirs; and the two orthree butchers found a ready market for their joints without strictreference to religious persuasion--except that the rector's wife hadgiven a general order for the veal sweet-breads and the mutton kidneys, while Mr. Rodd, the Baptist minister, had requested that, so far as wascompatible with the fair accommodation of other customers, the sheep'strotters might be reserved for him. And it was likely to be a growingplace, for the trustees of Mr. Zephaniah Crypt's Charity, under thestimulus of a late visitation by commissioners, were beginning to applylong-accumulating funds to the rebuilding of the Yellow Coat School, which was henceforth to be carried forward on a greatly-extended scale, the testator having left no restrictions concerning the curriculum, butonly concerning the coat. 

The shopkeepers at Grimworth were by no means unanimous as to theadvantages promised by this prospect of increased population and trading, being substantial men, who liked doing a quiet business in which theywere sure of their customers, and could calculate their returns to anicety. Hitherto, it had been held a point of honour by the families inGrimworth parish, to buy their sugar and their flannel at the shop wheretheir fathers and mothers had bought before them; but, if newcomers wereto bring in the system of neck-and-neck trading, and solicit feminineeyes by gown-pieces laid in fan-like folds, and surmounted by artificialflowers, giving them a factitious charm (for on what human figure would agown sit like a fan, or what female head was like a bunch ofChina-asters?), or, if new grocers were to fill their windows withmountains of currants and sugar, made seductive by contrast andtickets, --what security was there for Grimworth, that a vagrant spirit inshopping, once introduced, would not in the end carry the most importantfamilies to the larger market town of Cattleton, where, business beingdone on a system of small profits and quick returns, the fashions were ofthe freshest, and goods of all kinds might be bought at an advantage?

With this view of the times predominant among the tradespeople atGrimworth, their uncertainty concerning the nature of the business whichthe sallow-complexioned stranger was about to set up in the vacant shop, naturally gave some additional strength to the fears of the lesssanguine. If he was going to sell drapery, it was probable that a pale-faced fellow like that would deal in showy and inferior articles--printedcottons and muslins which would leave their dye in the wash-tub, jobbedlinen full of knots, and flannel that would soon look like gauze. Ifgrocery, then it was to be hoped that no mother of a family would trustthe teas of an untried grocer. Such things had been known in someparishes as tradesmen going about canvassing for custom with cards intheir pockets: when people came from nobody knew where, there was noknowing what they might do. It was a thousand pities that Mr. Moffat, the auctioneer and broker, had died without leaving anybody to follow himin the business, and Mrs. Cleve's trustee ought to have known better thanto let a shop to a stranger. Even the discovery that ovens were beingput up on the premises, and that the shop was, in fact, being fitted upfor a confectioner and pastry-cook's business, hitherto unknown inGrimworth, did not quite suffice to turn the scale in the newcomer'sfavour, though the landlady at the Woolpack defended him warmly, said heseemed to be a very clever young man, and from what she could make out, came of a very good family; indeed, was most likely a good many people'sbetters. 

It certainly made a blaze of light and colour, almost as if a rainbow hadsuddenly descended into the market-place, when, one fine morning, theshutters were taken down from the new shop, and the two windows displayedtheir decorations. On one side, there were the variegated tints ofcollared and marbled meats, set off by bright green leaves, the palebrown of glazed pies, the rich tones of sauces and bottled fruitsenclosed in their veil of glass--altogether a sight to bring tears intothe eyes of a Dutch painter; and on the other, there was a predominanceof the more delicate hues of pink, and white, and yellow, and buff, inthe abundant lozenges, candies, sweet biscuits and icings, which to theeyes of a bilious person might easily have been blended into a faerylandscape in Turner's latest style. What a sight to dawn upon the eyesof Grimworth children! They almost forgot to go to their dinner thatday, their appetites being preoccupied with imaginary sugar-plums; and Ithink even Punch, setting up his tabernacle in the market-place, wouldnot have succeeded in drawing them away from those shop-windows, wherethey stood according to gradations of size and strength, the biggest andstrongest being nearest the window, and the little ones in the outermostrows lifting wide-open eyes and mouths towards the upper tier of jars, like small birds at meal-time. 

The elder inhabitants pished and pshawed a little at the folly of the newshopkeeper in venturing on such an outlay in goods that would not keep;to be sure, Christmas was coming, but what housewife in Grimworth wouldnot think shame to furnish forth her table with articles that were nothome-cooked? No, no. Mr. Edward Freely, as he called himself, wasdeceived, if he thought Grimworth money was to flow into his pockets onsuch terms. 

Edward Freely was the name that shone in gilt letters on a mazarineground over the doorplace of the new shop--a generous-sounding name, thatmight have belonged to the open-hearted, improvident hero of an oldcomedy, who would have delighted in raining sugared almonds, like a newmanna-gift, among that small generation outside the windows. But Mr. Edward Freely was a man whose impulses were kept in due subordination: heheld that the desire for sweets and pastry must only be satisfied in adirect ratio with the power of paying for them. If the smallest child inGrimworth would go to him with a halfpenny in its tiny fist, he would, after ringing the halfpenny, deliver a just equivalent in "rock. " He wasnot a man to cheat even the smallest child--he often said so, observingat the same time that he loved honesty, and also that he was very tender-hearted, though he didn't show his feelings as some people did. 

Either in reward of such virtue, or according to some more hidden law ofsequence, Mr. Freely's business, in spite of prejudice, started underfavourable auspices. For Mrs. Chaloner, the rector's wife, was among theearliest customers at the shop, thinking it only right to encourage a newparishioner who had made a decorous appearance at church; and she foundMr. Freely a most civil, obliging young man, and intelligent to asurprising degree for a confectioner; well-principled, too, for in givingher useful hints about choosing sugars he had thrown much light on thedishonesty of other tradesmen. Moreover, he had been in the West Indies, and had seen the very estate which had been her poor grandfather'sproperty; and he said the missionaries were the only cause of the negro'sdiscontent--an observing young man, evidently. Mrs. Chaloner orderedwine-biscuits and olives, and gave Mr. Freely to understand that sheshould find his shop a great convenience. So did the doctor's wife, andso did Mrs. Gate, at the large carding-mill, who, having high connexionsfrequently visiting her, might be expected to have a large consumption ofratafias and macaroons. 

The less aristocratic matrons of Grimworth seemed likely at first tojustify their husbands' confidence that they would never pay a percentageof profits on drop-cakes, instead of making their own, or get up a hollowshow of liberal housekeeping by purchasing slices of collared meat when aneighbour came in for supper. But it is my task to narrate the gradualcorruption of Grimworth manners from their primitive simplicity--amelancholy task, if it were not cheered by the prospect of the fineperipateia or downfall by which the progress of the corruption wasultimately checked. 

It was young Mrs. Steene, the veterinary surgeons wife, who first gaveway to temptation. I fear she had been rather over-educated for herstation in life, for she knew by heart many passages in _Lalla Rookh_, the _Corsair_, and the _Siege of Corinth_, which had given her a distastefor domestic occupations, and caused her a withering disappointment atthe discovery that Mr. Steene, since his marriage, had lost all interestin the "bulbul, " openly preferred discussing the nature of spavin with acoarse neighbour, and was angry if the pudding turned out watery--indeed, was simply a top-booted "vet. ", who came in hungry at dinner-time; andnot in the least like a nobleman turned Corsair out of pure scorn for hisrace, or like a renegade with a turban and crescent, unless it were inthe irritability of his temper. And scorn is such a very different thingin top-boots!

This brutal man had invited a supper-party for Christmas eve, when hewould expect to see mince-pies on the table. Mrs. Steene had preparedher mince-meat, and had devoted much butter, fine flour, and labour, tothe making of a batch of pies in the morning; but they proved to be sovery heavy when they came out of the oven, that she could only think withtrembling of the moment when her husband should catch sight of them onthe supper-table. He would storm at her, she was certain; and before allthe company; and then she should never help crying: it was so dreadful tothink she had come to that, after the bulbul and everything! Suddenlythe thought darted through her mind that _this once_ she might send for adish of mince-pies from Freely's: she knew he had some. But what was tobecome of the eighteen heavy mince-pies? Oh, it was of no use thinkingabout that; it was very expensive--indeed, making mince-pies at all was agreat expense, when they were not sure to turn out well: it would be muchbetter to buy them ready-made. You paid a little more for them, butthere was no risk of waste. 

Such was the sophistry with which this misguided young woman--enough. Mrs. Steene sent for the mince-pies, and, I am grieved to add, garbledher household accounts in order to conceal the fact from her husband. This was the second step in a downward course, all owing to a youngwoman's being out of harmony with her circumstances, yearning afterrenegades and bulbuls, and being subject to claims from a veterinarysurgeon fond of mince-pies. The third step was to harden herself bytelling the fact of the bought mince-pies to her intimate friend Mrs. Mole, who had already guessed it, and who subsequently encouraged herselfin buying a mould of jelly, instead of exerting her own skill, by thereflection that "other people" did the same sort of thing. The infectionspread; soon there was a party or clique in Grimworth on the side of"buying at Freely's"; and many husbands, kept for some time in the darkon this point, innocently swallowed at two mouthfuls a tart on which theywere paying a profit of a hundred per cent. , and as innocently encourageda fatal disingenuousness in the partners of their bosoms by praising thepastry. Others, more keen-sighted, winked at the too frequentpresentation on washing-days, and at impromptu suppers, of superiorspiced-beef, which flattered their palates more than the cold remnantsthey had formerly been contented with. Every housewife who had once"bought at Freely's" felt a secret joy when she detected a similarperversion in her neighbour's practice, and soon only two or three old-fashioned mistresses of families held out in the protest against thegrowing demoralization, saying to their neighbours who came to sup withthem, "I can't offer you Freely's beef, or Freely's cheesecakes;everything in our house is home-made; I'm afraid you'll hardly have anyappetite for our plain pastry. " The doctor, whose cook was notsatisfactory, the curate, who kept no cook, and the mining agent, who wasa great _bon vivant_, even began to rely on Freely for the greater partof their dinner, when they wished to give an entertainment of somebrilliancy. In short, the business of manufacturing the more fancifulviands was fast passing out of the hinds of maids and matrons in privatefamilies, and was becoming the work of a special commercial organ. 

I am not ignorant that this sort of thing is called the inevitable courseof civilization, division of labour, and so forth, and that the maids andmatrons may be said to have had their hands set free from cookery to addto the wealth of society in some other way. Only it happened atGrimworth, which, to be sure, was a low place, that the maids and matronscould do nothing with their hands at all better than cooking: not eventhose who had always made heavy cakes and leathery pastry. And so itcame to pass, that the progress of civilization at Grimworth was nototherwise apparent than in the impoverishment of men, the gossipingidleness of women, and the heightening prosperity of Mr. Edward Freely. 

The Yellow Coat School was a double source of profit to the calculatingconfectioner; for he opened an eating-room for the superior workmenemployed on the new school, and he accommodated the pupils at the oldschool by giving great attention to the fancy-sugar department. When Ithink of the sweet-tasted swans and other ingenious white shapes crunchedby the small teeth of that rising generation, I am glad to remember thata certain amount of calcareous food has been held good for youngcreatures whose bones are not quite formed; for I have observed thesedelicacies to have an inorganic flavour which would have recommended themgreatly to that young lady of the _Spectator's_ acquaintance whohabitually made her dessert on the stems of tobacco-pipes. 

As for the confectioner himself, he made his way gradually into Grimworthhomes, as his commodities did, in spite of some initial repugnance. Somehow or other, his reception as a guest seemed a thing that requiredjustifying, like the purchasing of his pastry. In the first place, hewas a stranger, and therefore open to suspicion; secondly, theconfectionery business was so entirely new at Grimworth, that its placein the scale of rank had not been distinctly ascertained. There was nodoubt about drapers and grocers, when they came of good old Grimworthfamilies, like Mr. Luff and Mr. Prettyman: they visited with thePalfreys, who farmed their own land, played many a game at whist with thedoctor, and condescended a little towards the timber-merchant, who hadlately taken to the coal-trade also, and had got new furniture; butwhether a confectioner should be admitted to this higher level ofrespectability, or should be understood to find his associates amongbutchers and bakers, was a new question on which tradition threw nolight. His being a bachelor was in his favour, and would perhaps havebeen enough to turn the scale, even if Mr. Edward Freely's other personalpretensions had been of an entirely insignificant cast. But so far fromthis, it very soon appeared that he was a remarkable young man, who hadbeen in the West Indies, and had seen many wonders by sea and land, sothat he could charm the ears of Grimworth Desdemonas with stories ofstrange fishes, especially sharks, which he had stabbed in the nick oftime by bravely plunging overboard just as the monster was turning on hisside to devour the cook's mate; of terrible fevers which he had undergonein a land where the wind blows from all quarters at once; of rounds oftoast cut straight from the breadfruit trees; of toes bitten off by land-crabs; of large honours that had been offered to him as a man who knewwhat was what, and was therefore particularly needed in a tropicalclimate; and of a Creole heiress who had wept bitterly at his departure. Such conversational talents as these, we know, will overcomedisadvantages of complexion; and young Towers, whose cheeks were of thefinest pink, set off by a fringe of dark whisker, was quite eclipsed bythe presence of the sallow Mr. Freely. So exceptional a confectionerelevated the business, and might well begin to make disengaged heartsflutter a little. 

Fathers and mothers were naturally more slow and cautious in theirrecognition of the newcomer's merits. 

"He's an amusing fellow, " said Mr. Prettyman, the highly respectablegrocer. (Mrs. Prettyman was a Miss Fothergill, and her sister hadmarried a London mercer. ) "He's an amusing fellow; and I've no objectionto his making one at the Oyster Club; but he's a bit too fond of ridingthe high horse. He's uncommonly knowing, I'll allow; but how came he togo to the Indies? I should like that answered. It's unnatural in aconfectioner. I'm not fond of people that have been beyond seas, if theycan't give a good account how they happened to go. When folks go so faroff, it's because they've got little credit nearer home--that's myopinion. However, he's got some good rum; but I don't want to be handand glove with him, for all that. "

It was this kind of dim suspicion which beclouded the view of Mr. Freely's qualities in the maturer minds of Grimworth through the earlymonths of his residence there. But when the confectioner ceased to be anovelty, the suspicions also ceased to be novel, and people got tired ofhinting at them, especially as they seemed to be refuted by his advancingprosperity and importance. Mr. Freely was becoming a person of influencein the parish; he was found useful as an overseer of the poor, havinggreat firmness in enduring other people's pain, which firmness, he said, was due to his great benevolence; he always did what was good for peoplein the end. Mr. Chaloner had even selected him as clergyman'schurchwarden, for he was a very handy man, and much more of Mr. Chaloner's opinion in everything about church business than the olderparishioners. Mr. Freely was a very regular churchman, but at the OysterClub he was sometimes a little free in his conversation, more thanhinting at a life of Sultanic self-indulgence which he had passed in theWest Indies, shaking his head now and then and smiling rather bitterly, as men are wont to do when they intimate that they have become a littletoo wise to be instructed about a world which has long been flat andstale to them. 

For some time he was quite general in his attentions to the fair sex, combining the gallantries of a lady's man with a severity of criticism onthe person and manners of absent belles, which tended rather to stimulatein the feminine breast the desire to conquer the approval of sofastidious a judge. Nothing short of the very best in the department offemale charms and virtues could suffice to kindle the ardour of Mr. Edward Freely, who had become familiar with the most luxuriant anddazzling beauty in the West Indies. It may seem incredible that aconfectioner should have ideas and conversation so much resembling thoseto be met with in a higher walk of life, but it must be remembered thathe had not merely travelled, he had also bow-legs and a sallow, small-featured visage, so that nature herself had stamped him for a fastidiousconnoisseur of the fair sex. 

At last, however, it seemed clear that Cupid had found a sharper arrowthan usual, and that Mr. Freely's heart was pierced. It was the generaltalk among the young people at Grimworth. But was it really love, andnot rather ambition? Miss Fullilove, the timber-merchant's daughter, wasquite sure that if _she_ were Miss Penny Palfrey, she would be cautious;it was not a good sign when men looked so much above themselves for awife. For it was no less a person than Miss Penelope Palfrey, seconddaughter of the Mr. Palfrey who farmed his own land, that had attractedMr. Freely's peculiar regard, and conquered his fastidiousness; and nowonder, for the Ideal, as exhibited in the finest waxwork, was perhapsnever so closely approached by the Real as in the person of the prettyPenelope. Her yellowish flaxen hair did not curl naturally, I admit, butits bright crisp ringlets were such smooth, perfect miniature tubes, thatyou would have longed to pass your little finger through them, and feeltheir soft elasticity. She wore them in a crop, for in those days, whensociety was in a healthier state, young ladies wore crops long after theywere twenty, and Penelope was not yet nineteen. Like the waxen ideal, she had round blue eyes, and round nostrils in her little nose, and teethsuch as the ideal would be seen to have, if it ever showed them. Altogether, she was a small, round thing, as neat as a pink and whitedouble daisy, and as guileless; for I hope it does not argue guile in apretty damsel of nineteen, to think that she should like to have a beauand be "engaged, " when her elder sister had already been in that positiona year and a half. To be sure, there was young Towers always coming tothe house; but Penny felt convinced he only came to see her brother, forhe never had anything to say to her, and never offered her his arm, andwas as awkward and silent as possible. 

It is not unlikely that Mr. Freely had early been smitten by Penny'scharms, as brought under his observation at church, but he had to makehis way in society a little before he could come into nearer contact withthem; and even after he was well received in Grimworth families, it was along while before he could converse with Penny otherwise than in anincidental meeting at Mr. Luff's. It was not so easy to get invited toLong Meadows, the residence of the Palfreys; for though Mr. Palfrey hadbeen losing money of late years, not being able quite to recover his feetafter the terrible murrain which forced him to borrow, his family werefar from considering themselves on the same level even as theold-established tradespeople with whom they visited. The greatestpeople, even kings and queens, must visit with somebody, and the equalsof the great are scarce. They were especially scarce at Grimworth, which, as I have before observed, was a low parish, mentioned with themost scornful brevity in gazetteers. Even the great people there werefar behind those of their own standing in other parts of this realm. Mr. Palfrey's farmyard doors had the paint all worn off them, and the frontgarden walks had long been merged in a general weediness. Still, hisfather had been called Squire Palfrey, and had been respected by the lastGrimworth generation as a man who could afford to drink too much in hisown house. 

Pretty Penny was not blind to the fact that Mr. Freely admired her, andshe felt sure that it was he who had sent her a beautiful valentine; buther sister seemed to think so lightly of him (all young ladies thinklightly of the gentlemen to whom they are not engaged), that Penny neverdared mention him, and trembled and blushed whenever they met him, thinking of the valentine, which was very strong in its expressions, andwhich she felt guilty of knowing by heart. A man who had been to theIndies, and knew the sea so well, seemed to her a sort of publiccharacter, almost like Robinson Crusoe or Captain Cook; and Penny hadalways wished her husband to be a remarkable personage, likely to be putin Mangnall's Questions, with which register of the immortals she hadbecome acquainted during her one year at a boarding-school. Only itseemed strange that a remarkable man should be a confectioner and pastry-cook, and this anomaly quite disturbed Penny's dreams. Her brothers, sheknew, laughed at men who couldn't sit on horseback well, and called themtailors; but her brothers were very rough, and were quite without thatpower of anecdote which made Mr. Freely such a delightful companion. Hewas a very good man, she thought, for she had heard him say at Mr. Luff's, one day, that he always wished to do his duty in whatever stateof life he might be placed; and he knew a great deal of poetry, for oneday he had repeated a verse of a song. She wondered if he had made thewords of the valentine!--it ended in this way:--

 "Without thee, it is pain to live, But with thee, it were sweet to die. "

Poor Mr. Freely! her father would very likely object--she felt sure hewould, for he always called Mr. Freely "that sugar-plum fellow. " Oh, itwas very cruel, when true love was crossed in that way, and all becauseMr. Freely was a confectioner: well, Penny would be true to him, for allthat, and since his being a confectioner gave her an opportunity ofshowing her faithfulness, she was glad of it. Edward Freely was a prettyname, much better than John Towers. Young Towers had offered her a roseout of his button-hole the other day, blushing very much; but she refusedit, and thought with delight how much Mr. Freely would be comforted if heknew her firmness of mind. 

Poor little Penny! the days were so very long among the daisies on agrazing farm, and thought is so active--how was it possible that theinward drama should not get the start of the outward? I have known youngladies, much better educated, and with an outward world diversified byinstructive lectures, to say nothing of literature and highly-developedfancy-work, who have spun a cocoon of visionary joys and sorrows forthemselves, just as Penny did. Her elder sister Letitia, who had aprouder style of beauty, and a more worldly ambition, was engaged to awool-factor, who came all the way from Cattelton to see her; andeverybody knows that a wool-factor takes a very high rank, sometimesdriving a double-bodied gig. Letty's notions got higher every day, andPenny never dared to speak of her cherished griefs to her loftysister--never dared to propose that they should call at Mr. Freely's tobuy liquorice, though she had prepared for such an incident by mentioninga slight sore throat. So she had to pass the shop on the other side ofthe market-place, and reflect, with a suppressed sigh, that behind thosepink and white jars somebody was thinking of her tenderly, unconscious ofthe small space that divided her from him. 

And it was quite true that, when business permitted, Mr. Freely thought agreat deal of Penny. He thought her prettiness comparable to theloveliest things in confectionery; he judged her to be of submissivetemper--likely to wait upon him as well as if she had been a negress, andto be silently terrified when his liver made him irritable; and heconsidered the Palfrey family quite the best in the parish, possessingmarriageable daughters. On the whole, he thought her worthy to becomeMrs. Edward Freely, and all the more so, because it would probablyrequire some ingenuity to win her. Mr. Palfrey was capable ofhorse-whipping a too rash pretender to his daughter's hand; and, moreover, he had three tall sons: it was clear that a suitor would be ata disadvantage with such a family, unless travel and natural acumen hadgiven him a countervailing power of contrivance. And the first idea thatoccurred to him in the matter was, that Mr. Palfrey would object less ifhe knew that the Freelys were a much higher family than his own. It hadbeen foolish modesty in him hitherto to conceal the fact that a branch ofthe Freelys held a manor in Yorkshire, and to shut up the portrait of hisgreat uncle the admiral, instead of hanging it up where a family portraitshould be hung--over the mantelpiece in the parlour. Admiral Freely, K. C. B. , once placed in this conspicuous position, was seen to have hadone arm only, and one eye--in these points resembling the heroicNelson--while a certain pallid insignificance of feature confirmed therelationship between himself and his grand-nephew. 

Next, Mr. Freely was seized with an irrepressible ambition to posses Mrs. Palfrey's receipt for brawn, hers being pronounced on all hands to besuperior to his own--as he informed her in a very flattering lettercarried by his errand-boy. Now Mrs. Palfrey, like other geniuses, wrought by instinct rather than by rule, and possessed noreceipts--indeed, despised all people who used them, observing thatpeople who pickled by book, must pickle by weights and measures, and suchnonsense; as for herself, her weights and measures were the tip of herfinger and the tip of her tongue, and if you went nearer, why, of course, for dry goods like flour and spice, you went by handfuls and pinches, andfor wet, there was a middle-sized jug--quite the best thing whether formuch or little, because you might know how much a teacupful was if you'dgot any use of your senses, and you might be sure it would take fivemiddle-sized jugs to make a gallon. Knowledge of this kind is likeTitian's colouring, difficult to communicate; and as Mrs. Palfrey, onceremarkably handsome, had now become rather stout and asthmatical, andscarcely ever left home, her oral teaching could hardly be given anywhereexcept at Long Meadows. Even a matron is not insusceptible to flattery, and the prospect of a visitor whose great object would be to listen toher conversation, was not without its charms to Mrs. Palfrey. Sincethere was no receipt to be sent in reply to Mr. Freely's humble request, she called on her more docile daughter, Penny, to write a note, tellinghim that her mother would be glad to see him and talk with him on brawn, any day that he could call at Long Meadows. Penny obeyed with atrembling hand, thinking how wonderfully things came about in this world. 

In this way, Mr. Freely got himself introduced into the home of thePalfreys, and notwithstanding a tendency in the male part of the familyto jeer at him a little as "peaky" and bow-legged, he presentlyestablished his position as an accepted and frequent guest. Young Towerslooked at him with increasing disgust when they met at the house on aSunday, and secretly longed to try his ferret upon him, as a piece ofvermin which that valuable animal would be likely to tackle withunhesitating vigour. But--so blind sometimes are parents--neither Mr. Nor Mrs. Palfrey suspected that Penny would have anything to say to atradesman of questionable rank whose youthful bloom was much withered. Young Towers, they thought, had an eye to her, and _that_ was likelyenough to be a match some day; but Penny was a child at present. And allthe while Penny was imagining the circumstances under which Mr. Freelywould make her an offer: perhaps down by the row of damson-trees, whenthey were in the garden before tea; perhaps by letter--in which case, howwould the letter begin? "Dearest Penelope?" or "My dear Miss Penelope?"or straight off, without dear anything, as seemed the most natural whenpeople were embarrassed? But, however he might make the offer, she wouldnot accept it without her father's consent: she would always be true toMr. Freely, but she would not disobey her father. For Penny was a goodgirl, though some of her female friends were afterwards of opinion thatit spoke ill for her not to have felt an instinctive repugnance to Mr. Freely. 

But he was cautious, and wished to be quite sure of the ground he trodon. His views on marriage were not entirely sentimental, but were asduly mingled with considerations of what would be advantageous to a manin his position, as if he had had a very large amount of money spent onhis education. He was not a man to fall in love in the wrong place; andso, he applied himself quite as much to conciliate the favour of theparents, as to secure the attachment of Penny. Mrs. Palfrey had not beeninaccessible to flattery, and her husband, being also of mortal mould, would not, it might be hoped, be proof against rum--that very fineJamaica rum--of which Mr. Freely expected always to have a supply senthim from Jamaica. It was not easy to get Mr. Palfrey into the parlourbehind the shop, where a mild back-street light fell on the features ofthe heroic admiral; but by getting hold of him rather late one evening ashe was about to return home from Grimworth, the aspiring lover succeededin persuading him to sup on some collared beef which, after Mrs. Palfrey's brawn, he would find the very best of cold eating. 

From that hour Mr. Freely felt sure of success: being in privacy with anestimable man old enough to be his father, and being rather lonely in theworld, it was natural he should unbosom himself a little on subjectswhich he could not speak of in a mixed circle--especially concerning hisexpectations from his uncle in Jamaica, who had no children, and lovedhis nephew Edward better than any one else in the world, though he hadbeen so hurt at his leaving Jamaica, that he had threatened to cut himoff with a shilling. However, he had since written to state his fullforgiveness, and though he was an eccentric old gentleman and could notbear to give away money during his life, Mr. Edward Freely could show Mr. Palfrey the letter which declared, plainly enough, who would be theaffectionate uncle's heir. Mr. Palfrey actually saw the letter, andcould not help admiring the spirit of the nephew who declared that suchbrilliant hopes as these made no difference to his conduct; he shouldwork at his humble business and make his modest fortune at it all thesame. If the Jamaica estate was to come to him--well and good. It wasnothing very surprising for one of the Freely family to have an estateleft him, considering the lands that family had possessed in time goneby--nay, still possessed in the Northumberland branch. Would not Mr. Palfrey take another glass of rum? and also look at the last year'sbalance of the accounts? Mr. Freely was a man who cared to possesspersonal virtues, and did not pique himself on his family, though somemen would. 

We know how easily the great Leviathan may be led, when once there is ahook in his nose or a bridle in his jaws. Mr. Palfrey was a large man, but, like Leviathan's, his bulk went against him when once he had taken aturning. He was not a mercurial man, who easily changed his point ofview. Enough. Before two months were over, he had given his consent toMr. Freely's marriage with his daughter Penny, and having hit on aformula by which he could justify it, fenced off all doubts andobjections, his own included. The formula was this: "I'm not a man toput my head up an entry before I know where it leads. "

Little Penny was very proud and fluttering, but hardly so happy as sheexpected to be in an engagement. She wondered if young Towers cared muchabout it, for he had not been to the house lately, and her sister andbrothers were rather inclined to sneer than to sympathize. Grimworthrang with the news. All men extolled Mr. Freely's good fortune; whilethe women, with the tender solicitude characteristic of the sex, wishedthe marriage might turn out well. 

While affairs were at this triumphant juncture, Mr. Freely one morningobserved that a stone-carver who had been breakfasting in the eating-roomhad left a newspaper behind. It was the _X-shire Gazette_, and X-shirebeing a county not unknown to Mr. Freely, he felt some curiosity toglance over it, and especially over the advertisements. A slight flushcame over his face as he read. It was produced by the followingannouncement:--"If David Faux, son of Jonathan Faux, late of Gilsbrook, will apply at the office of Mr. Strutt, attorney, of Rodham, he will hearof something to his advantage. "

"Father's dead!" exclaimed Mr. Freely, involuntarily. "Can he have leftme a legacy?"

CHAPTER III

Perhaps it was a result quite different from your expectations, that Mr. David Faux should have returned from the West Indies only a few yearsafter his arrival there, and have set up in his old business, like anyplain man who has never travelled. But these cases do occur in life. Since, as we know, men change their skies and see new constellationswithout changing their souls, it will follow sometimes that they don'tchange their business under those novel circumstances. 

Certainly, this result was contrary to David's own expectations. He hadlooked forward, you are aware, to a brilliant career among "the blacks";but, either because they had already seen too many white men, or for someother reason, they did not at once recognize him as a superior order ofhuman being; besides, there were no princesses among them. Nobody inJamaica was anxious to maintain David for the mere pleasure of hissociety; and those hidden merits of a man which are so well known tohimself were as little recognized there as they notoriously are in theeffete society of the Old World. So that in the dark hints that Davidthrew out at the Oyster Club about that life of Sultanic self-indulgencespent by him in the luxurious Indies, I really think he was doing himselfa wrong; I believe he worked for his bread, and, in fact, took to cookingas, after all, the only department in which he could offer skilledlabour. He had formed several ingenious plans by which he meant tocircumvent people of large fortune and small faculty; but then he nevermet with exactly the right circumstances. David's devices for gettingrich without work had apparently no direct relation with the worldoutside him, as his confectionery receipts had. It is possible to pass agreat many bad half pennies and bad half-crowns, but I believe there hasno instance been known of passing a halfpenny or a half-crown as asovereign. A sharper can drive a brisk trade in this world: it isundeniable that there may be a fine career for him, if he will dareconsequences; but David was too timid to be a sharper, or venture in anyway among the mantraps of the law. He dared rob nobody but his mother. And so he had to fall back on the genuine value there was in him--to becontent to pass as a good halfpenny, or, to speak more accurately, as agood confectioner. For in spite of some additional reading andobservation, there was nothing else he could make so much money by; nay, he found in himself even a capability of extending his skill in thisdirection, and embracing all forms of cookery; while, in other branchesof human labour, he began to see that it was not possible for him toshine. Fate was too strong for him; he had thought to master herinclination and had fled over the seas to that end; but she caught him, tied an apron round him, and snatching him from all other devices, madehim devise cakes and patties in a kitchen at Kingstown. He was gettingsubmissive to her, since she paid him with tolerable gains; but feversand prickly heat, and other evils incidental to cooks in ardent climates, made him long for his native land; so he took ship once more, carryinghis six years' savings, and seeing distinctly, this time, what wereFate's intentions as to his career. If you question me closely as towhether all the money with which he set up at Grimworth consisted of pureand simple earnings, I am obliged to confess that he got a sum or two forcharitably abstaining from mentioning some other people's misdemeanours. Altogether, since no prospects were attached to his family name, andsince a new christening seemed a suitable commencement of a new life, Mr. David Faux thought it as well to call himself Mr. Edward Freely. 

But lo! now, in opposition to all calculable probability, some benefitappeared to be attached to the name of David Faux. Should he neglect it, as beneath the attention of a prosperous tradesman? It might bring himinto contact with his family again, and he felt no yearnings in thatdirection: moreover, he had small belief that the "something to hisadvantage" could be anything considerable. On the other hand, even asmall gain is pleasant, and the promise of it in this instance was sosurprising, that David felt his curiosity awakened. The scale dipped atlast on the side of writing to the lawyer, and, to be brief, thecorrespondence ended in an appointment for a meeting between David andhis eldest brother at Mr. Strutt's, the vague "something" having beendefined as a legacy from his father of eighty-two pounds, threeshillings. 

David, you know, had expected to be disinherited; and so he would havebeen, if he had not, like some other indifferent sons, come of excellentparents, whose conscience made them scrupulous where much more highly-instructed people often feel themselves warranted in following the bentof their indignation. Good Mrs. Faux could never forget that she hadbrought this ill-conditioned son into the world when he was in thatentirely helpless state which excluded the smallest choice on his part;and, somehow or other, she felt that his going wrong would be hisfather's and mother's fault, if they failed in one tittle of theirparental duty. Her notion of parental duty was not of a high and subtlekind, but it included giving him his due share of the family property;for when a man had got a little honest money of his own, was he so likelyto steal? To cut the delinquent son off with a shilling, was likedelivering him over to his evil propensities. No; let the sum of twentyguineas which he had stolen be deducted from his share, and then let thesum of three guineas be put back from it, seeing that his mother hadalways considered three of the twenty guineas as his; and, though he hadrun away, and was, perhaps, gone across the sea, let the money be left tohim all the same, and be kept in reserve for his possible return. Mr. Faux agreed to his wife's views, and made a codicil to his willaccordingly, in time to die with a clear conscience. But for some timehis family thought it likely that David would never reappear; and theeldest son, who had the charge of Jacob on his hands, often thought it alittle hard that David might perhaps be dead, and yet, for want ofcertitude on that point, his legacy could not fall to his legal heir. Butin this state of things the opposite certitude--namely, that David wasstill alive and in England--seemed to be brought by the testimony of aneighbour, who, having been on a journey to Cattelton, was pretty sure hehad seen David in a gig, with a stout man driving by his side. He could"swear it was David, " though he could "give no account why, for he had nomarks on him; but no more had a white dog, and that didn't hinder folksfrom knowing a white dog. " It was this incident which had led to theadvertisement. 

The legacy was paid, of course, after a few preliminary disclosures as toMr. David's actual position. He begged to send his love to his mother, and to say that he hoped to pay her a dutiful visit by and by; but, atpresent, his business and near prospect of marriage made it difficult forhim to leave home. His brother replied with much frankness. 

"My mother may do as she likes about having you to see her, but, for mypart, I don't want to catch sight of you on the premises again. Whenfolks have taken a new name, they'd better keep to their new'quinetance. "

David pocketed the insult along with the eighty-two pounds three, andtravelled home again in some triumph at the ease of a transaction whichhad enriched him to this extent. He had no intention of offending hisbrother by further claims on his fraternal recognition, and relapsed withfull contentment into the character of Mr. Edward Freely, the orphan, scion of a great but reduced family, with an eccentric uncle in the WestIndies. (I have already hinted that he had some acquaintance withimaginative literature; and being of a practical turn, he had, youperceive, applied even this form of knowledge to practical purposes. )

It was little more than a week after the return from his fruitfuljourney, that the day of his marriage with Penny having been fixed, itwas agreed that Mrs. Palfrey should overcome her reluctance to move fromhome, and that she and her husband should bring their two daughters toinspect little Penny's future abode and decide on the new arrangements tobe made for the reception of the bride. Mr. Freely meant her to have ahouse so pretty and comfortable that she need not envy even awool-factor's wife. Of course, the upper room over the shop was to bethe best sitting-room; but also the parlour behind the shop was to bemade a suitable bower for the lovely Penny, who would naturally wish tobe near her husband, though Mr. Freely declared his resolution never toallow _his_ wife to wait in the shop. The decisions about the parlourfurniture were left till last, because the party was to take tea there;and, about five o'clock, they were all seated there with the best muffinsand buttered buns before them, little Penny blushing and smiling, withher "crop" in the best order, and a blue frock showing her little whiteshoulders, while her opinion was being always asked and never given. Shesecretly wished to have a particular sort of chimney ornaments, but shecould not have brought herself to mention it. Seated by the side of heryellow and rather withered lover, who, though he had not reached histhirtieth year, had already crow's-feet about his eyes, she was quitetremulous at the greatness of her lot in being married to a man who hadtravelled so much--and before her sister Letty! The handsome Letitialooked rather proud and contemptuous, thought her nature brother-in-lawan odious person, and was vexed with her father and mother for lettingPenny marry him. Dear little Penny! She certainly did look like a freshwhite-heart cherry going to be bitten off the stem by that lipless mouth. Would no deliverer come to make a slip between that cherry and that mouthwithout a lip?

"Quite a family likeness between the admiral and you, Mr. Freely, "observed Mrs. Palfrey, who was looking at the family portrait for thefirst time. "It's wonderful! and only a grand-uncle. Do you feature therest of your family, as you know of?"

"I can't say, " said Mr. Freely, with a sigh. "My family have mostlythought themselves too high to take any notice of me. "

At this moment an extraordinary disturbance was heard in the shop, as ofa heavy animal stamping about and making angry noises, and then of aglass vessel falling in shivers, while the voice of the apprentice washeard calling "Master" in great alarm. 

Mr. Freely rose in anxious astonishment, and hastened into the shop, followed by the four Palfreys, who made a group at the parlour-door, transfixed with wonder at seeing a large man in a smock-frock, with apitchfork in his hand, rush up to Mr. Freely and hug him, cryingout, --"Zavy, Zavy, b'other Zavy!"

It was Jacob, and for some moments David lost all presence of mind. Hefelt arrested for having stolen his mother's guineas. He turned cold, and trembled in his brother's grasp. 

"Why, how's this?" said Mr. Palfrey, advancing from the door. "Who ishe?"

Jacob supplied the answer by saying over and over again--

"I'se Zacob, b'other Zacob. Come 'o zee Zavy"--till hunger prompted himto relax his grasp, and to seize a large raised pie, which he lifted tohis mouth. 

By this time David's power of device had begun to return, but it was avery hard task for his prudence to master his rage and hatred towardspoor Jacob. 

"I don't know who he is; he must be drunk, " he said, in a low tone to Mr. Palfrey. "But he's dangerous with that pitchfork. He'll never let itgo. " Then checking himself on the point of betraying too great anintimacy with Jacob's habits, he added "You watch him, while I run forthe constable. " And he hurried out of the shop. 

"Why, where do you come from, my man?" said Mr. Palfrey, speaking toJacob in a conciliatory tone. Jacob was eating his pie by largemouthfuls, and looking round at the other good things in the shop, whilehe embraced his pitchfork with his left arm, and laid his left hand onsome Bath buns. He was in the rare position of a person who recovers along absent friend and finds him richer than ever in the characteristicsthat won his heart. 

"I's Zacob--b'other Zacob--'t home. I love Zavy--b'other Zavy, " he said, as soon as Mr. Palfrey had drawn his attention. "Zavy come back from z'Indies--got mother's zinnies. Where's Zavy?" he added, looking round andthen turning to the others with a questioning air, puzzled by David'sdisappearance. 

"It's very odd, " observed Mr. Palfrey to his wife and daughters. "Heseems to say Freely's his brother come back from th' Indies. "

"What a pleasant relation for us!" said Letitia, sarcastically. "I thinkhe's a good deal like Mr. Freely. He's got just the same sort of nose, and his eyes are the same colour. "

Poor Penny was ready to cry. 

But now Mr. Freely re-entered the shop without the constable. During hiswalk of a few yards he had had time and calmness enough to widen his viewof consequences, and he saw that to get Jacob taken to the workhouse orto the lock-up house as an offensive stranger might have awkward effectsif his family took the trouble of inquiring after him. He must resignhimself to more patient measures. 

"On second thoughts, " he said, beckoning to Mr. Palfrey and whispering tohim while Jacob's back was turned, "he's a poor half-witted fellow. Perhaps his friends will come after him. I don't mind giving himsomething to eat, and letting him lie down for the night. He's got itinto his head that he knows me--they do get these fancies, idiots do. He'll perhaps go away again in an hour or two, and make no more ado. I'ma kind-hearted man _myself_--I shouldn't like to have the poor fellow ill-used. "

"Why, he'll eat a sovereign's worth in no time, " said Mr. Palfrey, thinking Mr. Freely a little too magnificent in his generosity. 

"Eh, Zavy, come back?" exclaimed Jacob, giving his dear brother anotherhug, which crushed Mr. Freely's features inconveniently against the staleof the pitchfork. 

"Aye, aye, " said Mr. Freely, smiling, with every capability of murder inhis mind, except the courage to commit it. He wished the Bath buns mightby chance have arsenic in them. 

"Mother's zinnies?" said Jacob, pointing to a glass jar of yellowlozenges that stood in the window. "Zive 'em me. "

David dared not do otherwise than reach down the glass jar and give Jacoba handful. He received them in his smock-frock, which he held out formore. 

"They'll keep him quiet a bit, at any rate, " thought David, and emptiedthe jar. Jacob grinned and mowed with delight. 

"You're very good to this stranger, Mr. Freely, " said Letitia; and thenspitefully, as David joined the party at the parlour-door, "I think youcould hardly treat him better, if he was really your brother. "

"I've always thought it a duty to be good to idiots, " said Mr. Freely, striving after the most moral view of the subject. "We might have beenidiots ourselves--everybody might have been born idiots, instead ofhaving their right senses. "

"I don't know where there'd ha' been victual for us all then, " observedMrs. Palfrey, regarding the matter in a housewifely light. 

"But let us sit down again and finish our tea, " said Mr. Freely. "Let usleave the poor creature to himself. "

They walked into the parlour again; but Jacob, not apparentlyappreciating the kindness of leaving him to himself, immediately followedhis brother, and seated himself, pitchfork grounded, at the table. 

"Well, " said Miss Letitia, rising, "I don't know whether _you_ mean tostay, mother; but I shall go home. "

"Oh, me too, " said Penny, frightened to death at Jacob, who had begun tonod and grin at her. 

"Well, I think we _had_ better be going, Mr. Palfrey, " said the mother, rising more slowly. 

Mr. Freely, whose complexion had become decidedly yellower during thelast half-hour, did not resist this proposition. He hoped they shouldmeet again "under happier circumstances. "

"It's my belief the man is his brother, " said Letitia, when they were allon their way home. 

"Nonsense!" said Mr. Palfrey. "Freely's got no brother--he's said somany and many a time; he's an orphan; he's got nothing butuncles--leastwise, one. What's it matter what an idiot says? What callhad Freely to tell lies?"

Letitia tossed her head and was silent. 

Mr. Freely, left alone with his affectionate brother Jacob, brooded overthe possibility of luring him out of the town early the next morning, andgetting him conveyed to Gilsbrook without further betrayals. But thething was difficult. He saw clearly that if he took Jacob himself, hisabsence, conjoined with the disappearance of the stranger, would eithercause the conviction that he was really a relative, or would oblige himto the dangerous course of inventing a story to account for hisdisappearance, and his own absence at the same time. David groaned. There come occasions when falsehood is felt to be inconvenient. Itwould, perhaps, have been a longer-headed device, if he had never toldany of those clever fibs about his uncles, grand and otherwise; for thePalfreys were simple people, and shared the popular prejudice againstlying. Even if he could get Jacob away this time, what security wasthere that he would not come again, having once found the way? Oguineas! O lozenges! what enviable people those were who had neverrobbed their mothers, and had never told fibs! David spent a sleeplessnight, while Jacob was snoring close by. Was this the upshot oftravelling to the Indies, and acquiring experience combined withanecdote?

He rose at break of day, as he had once before done when he was in fearof Jacob, and took all gentle means to rouse this fatal brother from hisdeep sleep; he dared not be loud, because his apprentice was in thehouse, and would report everything. But Jacob was not to be roused. Hefought out with his fist at the unknown cause of disturbance, turnedover, and snored again. He must be left to wake as he would. David, with a cold perspiration on his brow, confessed to himself that Jacobcould not be got away that day. 

Mr. Palfrey came over to Grimworth before noon, with a natural curiosityto see how his future son-in-law got on with the stranger to whom he wasso benevolently inclined. He found a crowd round the shop. AllGrimworth by this time had heard how Freely had been fastened on by anidiot, who called him "Brother Zavy"; and the younger population seemedto find the singular stranger an unwearying source of fascination, whilethe householders dropped in one by one to inquire into the incident. 

"Why don't you send him to the workhouse?" said Mr. Prettyman. "You'llhave a row with him and the children presently, and he'll eat you up. Theworkhouse is the proper place for him; let his kin claim him, if he's gotany. "

"Those may be _your_ feelings, Mr. Prettyman, " said David, his mind quiteenfeebled by the torture of his position. 

"What! _is_ he your brother, then?" said Mr. Prettyman, looking at hisneighbour Freely rather sharply. 

"All men are our brothers, and idiots particular so, " said Mr. Freely, who, like many other travelled men, was not master of the Englishlanguage. 

"Come, come, if he's your brother, tell the truth, man, " said Mr. Prettyman, with growing suspicion. "Don't be ashamed of your own fleshand blood. "

Mr. Palfrey was present, and also had his eye on Freely. It is difficultfor a man to believe in the advantage of a truth which will disclose himto have been a liar. In this critical moment, David shrank from thisimmediate disgrace in the eyes of his future father-in-law. 

"Mr. Prettyman, " he said, "I take your observations as an insult. I'veno reason to be otherwise than proud of my own flesh and blood. If thispoor man was my brother more than all men are, I should say so. "

A tall figure darkened the door, and David, lifting his eyes in thatdirection, saw his eldest brother, Jonathan, on the door-sill. 

"I'll stay wi' Zavy, " shouted Jacob, as he, too, caught sight of hiseldest brother; and, running behind the counter, he clutched David hard. 

"What, he _is_ here?" said Jonathan Faux, coming forward. "My motherwould have no nay, as he'd been away so long, but I must see after him. And it struck me he was very like come after you, because we'd beentalking of you o' late, and where you lived. "

David saw there was no escape; he smiled a ghastly smile. 

"What! is this a relation of yours, sir?" said Mr. Palfrey to Jonathan. 

"Aye, it's my innicent of a brother, sure enough, " said honest Jonathan. "A fine trouble and cost he is to us, in th' eating and other things, butwe must bear what's laid on us. "

"And your name's Freely, is it?" said Mr. Prettyman. 

"Nay, nay, my name's Faux, I know nothing o' Freelys, " said Jonathan, curtly. "Come, " he added, turning to David, "I must take some news tomother about Jacob. Shall I take him with me, or will you undertake tosend him back?"

"Take him, if you can make him loose his hold of me, " said David, feebly. 

"Is this gentleman here in the confectionery line your brother, then, sir?" said Mr. Prettyman, feeling that it was an occasion on which formatlanguage must be used. 

"_I_ don't want to own him, " said Jonathan, unable to resist a movementof indignation that had never been allowed to satisfy itself. "He ranaway from home with good reasons in his pocket years ago: he didn't wantto be owned again, I reckon. "

Mr. Palfrey left the shop; he felt his own pride too severely wounded bythe sense that he had let himself be fooled, to feel curiosity forfurther details. The most pressing business was to go home and tell hisdaughter that Freely was a poor sneak, probably a rascal, and that herengagement was broken off. 

Mr. Prettyman stayed, with some internal self-gratulation that _he_ hadnever given in to Freely, and that Mr. Chaloner would see now what sortof fellow it was that he had put over the heads of older parishioners. Heconsidered it due from him (Mr. Prettyman) that, for the interests of theparish, he should know all that was to be known about this "interloper. "Grimworth would have people coming from Botany Bay to settle in it, ifthings went on in this way. 

It soon appeared that Jacob could not be made to quit his dear brotherDavid except by force. He understood, with a clearness equal to that ofthe most intelligent mind, that Jonathan would take him back to skimmedmilk, apple-dumpling, broad beans, and pork. And he had found a paradisein his brother's shop. It was a difficult matter to use force withJacob, for he wore heavy nailed boots; and if his pitchfork had beenmastered, he would have resorted without hesitation to kicks. Nothingshort of using guile to bind him hand and foot would have made allparties safe. 

"Let him stay, " said David, with desperate resignation, frightened aboveall things at the idea of further disturbances in his shop, which wouldmake his exposure all the more conspicuous. "_You_ go away again, and to-morrow I can, perhaps, get him to go to Gilsbrook with me. He'll followme fast enough, I daresay, " he added, with a half-groan. 

"Very well, " said Jonathan, gruffly. "I don't see why _you_ shouldn'thave some trouble and expense with him as well as the rest of us. Butmind you bring him back safe and soon, else mother'll never rest. "

On this arrangement being concluded, Mr. Prettyman begged Mr. JonathanFaux to go and take a snack with him, an invitation which was quiteacceptable; and as honest Jonathan had nothing to be ashamed of, it isprobable that he was very frank in his communications to the civildraper, who, pursuing the benefit of the parish, hastened to make all theinformation he could gather about Freely common parochial property. Youmay imagine that the meeting of the Club at the Woolpack that evening wasunusually lively. Every member was anxious to prove that he had neverliked Freely, as he called himself. Faux was his name, was it? Foxwould have been more suitable. The majority expressed a desire to seehim hooted out of the town. 

Mr. Freely did not venture over his door-sill that day, for he knew Jacobwould keep at his side, and there was every probability that they wouldhave a train of juvenile followers. He sent to engage the Woolpack gigfor an early hour the next morning; but this order was not keptreligiously a secret by the landlord. Mr. Freely was informed that hecould not have the gig till seven; and the Grimworth people were earlyrisers. Perhaps they were more alert than usual on this particularmorning; for when Jacob, with a bag of sweets in his hand, was induced tomount the gig with his brother David, the inhabitants of the market-placewere looking out of their doors and windows, and at the turning of thestreet there was even a muster of apprentices and schoolboys, who shoutedas they passed in what Jacob took to be a very merry and friendly way, nodding and grinning in return. "Huzzay, David Faux! how's your uncle?"was their morning's greeting. Like other pointed things, it was notaltogether impromptu. 

Even this public derision was not so crushing to David as the horriblethought that though he might succeed now in getting Jacob home againthere would never be any security against his coming back, like a wasp tothe honey-pot. As long as David lived at Grimworth, Jacob's return wouldbe hanging over him. But could he go on living at Grimworth--an objectof ridicule, discarded by the Palfreys, after having revelled in theconsciousness that he was an envied and prosperous confectioner? Davidliked to be envied; he minded less about being loved. 

His doubts on this point were soon settled. The mind of Grimworth becameobstinately set against him and his viands, and the new school beingfinished, the eating-room was closed. If there had been no other reason, sympathy with the Palfreys, that respectable family who had lived in theparish time out of mind, would have determined all well-to-do people todecline Freely's goods. Besides, he had absconded with his mother'sguineas: who knew what else he had done, in Jamaica or elsewhere, beforehe came to Grimworth, worming himself into families under falsepretences? Females shuddered. Dreadful suspicions gathered round him:his green eyes, his bow-legs had a criminal aspect. The rector dislikedthe sight of a man who had imposed upon him; and all boys who could notafford to purchase, hooted "David Faux" as they passed his shop. Certainly no man now would pay anything for the "goodwill" of Mr. Freely's business, and he would be obliged to quit it without a peculiumso desirable towards defraying the expense of moving. 

In a few months the shop in the market-place was again to let, and Mr. David Faux, alias Mr. Edward Freely, had gone--nobody at Grimworth knewwhither. In this way the demoralization of Grimworth women was checked. Young Mrs. Steene renewed her efforts to make light mince-pies, andhaving at last made a batch so excellent that Mr. Steene looked at herwith complacency as he ate them, and said they were the best he had evereaten in his life, she thought less of bulbuls and renegades ever after. The secrets of the finer cookery were revived in the breasts of matronlyhouse-wives, and daughters were again anxious to be initiated in them. 

You will further, I hope, be glad to bear, that some purchases of draperymade by pretty Penny, in preparation for her marriage with Mr. Freely, came in quite as well for her wedding with young Towers as if they hadbeen made expressly for the latter occasion. For Penny's complexion hadnot altered, and blue always became it best. 

Here ends the story of Mr. David Faux, confectioner, and his brotherJacob. And we see in it, I think, an admirable instance of theunexpected forms in which the great Nemesis hides herself. 

(1860)