The loss of estates and honours; the untimely death of
kindred, and perhaps of his wife, may furnish eternal food for regrets. Welbeck's utterance, though rapid and distinct, partook, as I conceived,
in some very slight degree of a foreign idiom. Such was the dream that haunted my undisciplined and unenlightened
imagination. The more I revolved it, the more plausible it seemed. On
due supposition every appearance that I had witnessed was easily
solved,--unless it were their treatment of me. This, at first, was a
source of hopeless perplexity. Gradually, however, a clue seemed to be
afforded. Welbeck had betrayed astonishment on my first appearance. The
lady's wonder was mingled with distress. Perhaps they discovered a
remarkable resemblance between me and one who stood in the relation of
son to Welbeck, and of brother to the lady. This youth might have
perished on the scaffold or in war. These, no doubt, were his clothes. This chamber might have been reserved for him, but his death left it to
be appropriated to another. I had hitherto been unable to guess at the reason why all this kindness
had been lavished on me. Will not this conjecture sufficiently account
for it? No wonder that this resemblance was enhanced by assuming his
dress. Taking all circumstances into view, these ideas were not, perhaps,
destitute of probability. Appearances naturally suggested them to me. They were, also, powerfully enforced by inclination. They threw me into
transports of wonder and hope. When I dwelt upon the incidents of my
past life, and traced the chain of events, from the death of my mother
to the present moment, I almost acquiesced in the notion that some
beneficent and ruling genius had prepared my path for me. Events which,
when foreseen, would most ardently have been deprecated, and when they
happened were accounted in the highest degree luckless, were now seen to
be propitious. Hence I inferred the infatuation of despair, and the
folly of precipitate conclusions. But what was the fate reserved for me? Perhaps Welbeck would adopt me
for his own son. Wealth has ever been capriciously distributed. The mere
physical relation of birth is all that entitles us to manors and
thrones. Identity itself frequently depends upon a casual likeness or an
old nurse's imposture. Nations have risen in arms, as in the case of the
Stuarts, in the cause of one the genuineness of whose birth has been
denied and can never be proved. But if the cause be trivial and
fallacious, the effects are momentous and solid. It ascertains our
portion of felicity and usefulness, and fixes our lot among peasants or
princes. Something may depend upon my own deportment. Will it not behoove me to
cultivate all my virtues and eradicate all my defects? I see that the
abilities of this man are venerable. Perhaps he will not lightly or
hastily decide in my favour. He will be governed by the proofs that I
shall give of discernment and integrity. I had always been exempt from
temptation, and was therefore undepraved; but this view of things had a
wonderful tendency to invigorate my virtuous resolutions. All within me
was exhilaration and joy. There was but one thing wanting to exalt me to a dizzy height and give
me place among the stars of heaven. My resemblance to her brother had
forcibly affected this lady; but I was not her brother. I was raised to
a level with her and made a tenant of the same mansion. Some intercourse
would take place between us. Time would lay level impediments and
establish familiarity, and this intercourse might foster love and
terminate in--_marriage_! These images were of a nature too glowing and expansive to allow me to
be longer inactive. I sallied forth into the open air. This tumult of
delicious thoughts in some time subsided, and gave way to images
relative to my present situation. My curiosity was awake. As yet I had
seen little of the city, and this opportunity for observation was not to
be neglected. I therefore coursed through several streets, attentively
examining the objects that successively presented themselves. At length, it occurred to me to search out the house in which I had
lately been immured. I was not without hopes that at some future period
I should be able to comprehend the allusions and brighten the
obscurities that hung about the dialogue of last night. The house was easily discovered. I reconnoitred the court and gate
through which I had passed. The mansion was of the first order in
magnitude and decoration. This was not the bound of my present
discovery, for I was gifted with that confidence which would make me set
on foot inquiries in the neighbourhood. I looked around for a suitable
medium of intelligence. The opposite and adjoining houses were small,
and apparently occupied by persons of an indigent class. At one of these
was a sign denoting it to be the residence of a tailor. Seated on a
bench at the door was a young man, with coarse uncombed locks, breeches
knee-unbuttoned, stockings ungartered, shoes slipshod and unbuckled, and
a face unwashed, gazing stupidly from hollow eyes. His aspect was
embellished with good nature, though indicative of ignorance. This was the only person in sight. He might be able to say something
concerning his opulent neighbour. To him, therefore, I resolved to
apply. I went up to him, and, pointing to the house in question, asked
him who lived there. He answered, "Mr. Matthews." "What is his profession,--his way of life?" "A gentleman. He does nothing but walk about." "How long has he been married?" "Married! He is not married as I know on. He never has been married. He
is a bachelor." This intelligence was unexpected. It made me pause to reflect whether I
had not mistaken the house. This, however, seemed impossible. I renewed
my questions. "A bachelor, say you? Are you not mistaken?" "No. It would be an odd thing if he was married. An old fellow, with one
foot in the grave--Comical enough for him to _git_ a _vife_!" "An old man? Does he live alone? What is his family?" "No, he does not live alone. He has a niece that lives with him. She is
married, and her husband lives there too." "What is his name?" "I don't know. I never heard it as I know on." "What is his trade?" "He's a merchant; he keeps a store somewhere or other; but I don't know
where." "How long has he been married?" "About two years. They lost a child lately. The young woman was in a
huge taking about it. They say she was quite crazy some days for the
death of the child; and she is not quite out of _the dumps_ yet. To-be-sure, the child was a sweet little thing; but they need not make
such a rout about it. I'll war'n' they'll have enough of them before
they die." "What is the character of the young man? Where was he born and educated? Has he parents or brothers?" My companion was incapable of answering these questions, and I left him
with little essential addition to the knowledge I already possessed. CHAPTER VII.