Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 369: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

CHAPTER LXVI. THE BARONET AND MYSELF. Siz Matrnew Hestrrine had retired with his daughter and grandchild to the drawing-room ; and I was repairing to my own apartment, when Mrs. Barclay the housekeeper caught me by the arm, and said, “ Please to follow me, Mr. Wilmot.” I was struck by this mode of address. Where- fore was I no longer plain and simple Joseph? She led me up the principal staircase, whereas I had been about to seek the back one, which the servants were accustomed to use ;—and leading me into one of the handsomest bed-chambers, she said, “If you please, sir, this is henceforth your apartment?” I at once understood that the Baronet was re- compensing me in his own peculiar way for the services I had rendered him: but still I was at a loss to comprehend the precise position in which I was thenceforth to live beneath his roof. ‘I have had your boxes and clothes removed here, sir, during your absence,” said Mrs. Barclay ; “but you will not find amongst your effects the suits that Sir Matthew had supplied you with. He desired me to beg of you that you will henceforth wear your own clothes. One word more, Mr. Wilmot. ‘You are expected to dine with Sir Mat- thew presently at his own table.” The worthy old housekeeper threw upon me a look which was replete with kind congratulation on this change in my condition; and she then quitted the room. I was profoundly moved by the Baronet’s conduct towards me: he was raising me up to his own level—or at least placing me in a position of acknowledged gentility; and hope beat strong in my heart as I thus found one of the principal barriers which separated me from Annabel, levelled and destroyed by her grand- father’s own hand. I opened one of my trunks to take forth my best suit,—when I perceived a letter lying on the top of the effects. It was addressed to me in the well-known handwriting of Sir Mat- thew; and on opening it, I found bank-notes to the amount of seventy-five pounds,—with simply these words written on a slip of paper :—“‘ The first half-year’s salary of my private secretary, Mr. Wilmot.” Here was another proof of Sir Matthew’s genuine goodness,—a goodness of heart which must have been natural to him, but which had long lain dormant in many respects—or else was so hemmed in by other and sterner feelings that it was like a fair plant which briars and brambles had covered, concealed, and well nigh choked. I made my toilet with considerable care; and when the dinner-bell rang, proceeded to the dining- room. Sir Matthew at once advanced, and shook me by the hand: but he spoke not a word in ac- knowledgment of the services I had rendered him. He chose to repay them by deeds after his own fashion—and not to make them the subject of precise and formal mention. With the courtesy of a well-bred gentleman, he at once endeavoured to make me feel myself completely at my ease in my new position. Mrs. Lanover smiled kindly and sweetly upon me; and the look which I fur- JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT, tively darted at Annabel, showed me that she was radiant with the satisfaction which she vainly at- tempted to conceal. About a week passed, during which I entered as it were upon another state of existence. I was no longer a menial—but was treated in the house with all the attention and respect due to a young gentleman. Sir Matthew, during my absence, had procured another valet; and for that week he had no letters to write—so that I was pretty well un. occupied, save in respect to looking over the land. steward’s accounts, which Sir Matthew desired me to investigate. But during this week I did not see much of either the Baronet, Mrs. Lanover, or Annabel, except at meal-times, and of an evening when we were all assembled together in the drawing-room. The old man remained much alone with his daughter and granddaughter. It was evident that now he had them with him, he was not merely anxious to make every atonement for his past conduct towards Mrs. Lanover—but that he was likewise desirous to enjoy the society of both. At length one morning he sent me a message, requesting me to repair to him in the library. The moment I entered into his presence, I felt convinced that Mrs. Lanover had spoken to him in respect to my attachment for Annabel. There was much of his old manner and appearance in the Baronet as I thus entered: he was seated bolt up- right in his chair—his countenance perfectly in- scrutable—his eyes fixed keenly upon me—his mouth drawn in. My heart sank: I thought there was something ominous in all this; and I have no doubt that my confusion and agitation be- trayed themselves in my looks and in the hesitating way in which I advanced towards him. Without uttering a word, he pointed to a seat; and when I had taken it, he still continued to gaze upon me, as if he had hitherto comprehended me but par- tially, and was now resolved to penetrate into the previously unfathomed depths of my soul. It was an ordeal that filled me with painful misgivings and fluttering apprehensions: it seemed to me as if the beams of prosperity which had begun to irra- diate my life’s pathway, were about to merge again into obscurity and gloom. “ Joseph,” Sir Matthew at length said—and he spoke in somewhat his old style—querulous, irrita- ble, and schreeching,—“ we have got plenty of time upon our hands: you have been pretty nearly idle for a whole week—and now I am going to give you occupation for an hour or two. Just have the goodness to tell me the entire history of your life. Do not think of suppressing a single detail ; and be not afraid of wearying me. I sha’n’t go to sleep. ‘Tell it all in your own style; and if you have done anything of which you are ashamed, prove your contrition by a frank avowal. I sup- pose we have all done things which, when we look back upon them, we could wish undone. I know that ZT have; and you know too that I have,” he added, fixing his eyes with a still more vivid keen- ness upon me. “ Now then, take your time in telling me your tale. I know that you have suf- fered much at the hands of Mr. Lanover: my daughter has, with tears in her eyes, told me how he treated you. She has suppressed nothing that is within her own knowledge: she has even ad- mitted to me that the wretch sought your life. So Gboo S co m ’