'We know that we live and breathe,' continued Horatio; 'that we have wants and wishes, desires and appetites - '
'Certainly,' said Mr. Frederick Malderton, looking profound.
'I say, we know that we exist,' repeated Horatio, raising his voice, 'but there we stop; there, is an end to our knowledge;there, is the summit of our attainments; there, is the termination of our ends. What more do we know?'
'Nothing,' replied Mr. Frederick - than whom no one was more capable of answering for himself in that particular. Tom was about to hazard something, but, fortunately for his reputation, he caught his father's angry eye, and slunk off like a puppy convicted of petty larceny.
'Upon my word,' said Mr. Malderton the elder, as they were returning home in the fly, 'that Mr. Sparkins is a wonderful young man. Such surprising knowledge! such extraordinary information!
and such a splendid mode of expressing himself!'
'I think he must be somebody in disguise,' said Miss Marianne.
'How charmingly romantic!'
'He talks very loud and nicely,' timidly observed Tom, 'but I don't exactly understand what he means.'
'I almost begin to despair of your understanding anything, Tom,'
said his father, who, of course, had been much enlightened by Mr.
Horatio Sparkins's conversation.
'It strikes me, Tom,' said Miss Teresa, 'that you have made yourself very ridiculous this evening.'
'No doubt of it,' cried everybody - and the unfortunate Tom reduced himself into the least possible space. That night, Mr. and Mrs.
Malderton had a long conversation respecting their daughter's prospects and future arrangements. Miss Teresa went to bed, considering whether, in the event of her marrying a title, she could conscientiously encourage the visits of her present associates; and dreamed, all night, of disguised noblemen, large routs, ostrich plumes, bridal favours, and Horatio Sparkins.
Various surmises were hazarded on the Sunday morning, as to the mode of conveyance which the anxiously-expected Horatio would adopt. Did he keep a gig? - was it possible he could come on horseback? - or would he patronize the stage? These, and other various conjectures of equal importance, engrossed the attention of Mrs. Malderton and her daughters during the whole morning after church.
'Upon my word, my dear, it's a most annoying thing that that vulgar brother of yours should have invited himself to dine here to-day,'
said Mr. Malderton to his wife. 'On account of Mr. Sparkins's coming down, I purposely abstained from asking any one but Flamwell. And then to think of your brother - a tradesman - it's insufferable! I declare I wouldn't have him mention his shop, before our new guest - no, not for a thousand pounds! I wouldn't care if he had the good sense to conceal the disgrace he is to the family; but he's so fond of his horrible business, that he WILL let people know what he is.'
Mr. Jacob Barton, the individual alluded to, was a large grocer; so vulgar, and so lost to all sense of feeling, that he actually never scrupled to avow that he wasn't above his business: 'he'd made his money by it, and he didn't care who know'd it.'
'Ah! Flamwell, my dear fellow, how d'ye do?' said Mr. Malderton, as a little spoffish man, with green spectacles, entered the room.
'You got my note?'
'Yes, I did; and here I am in consequence.'
'You don't happen to know this Mr. Sparkins by name? You know everybody?'
Mr. Flamwell was one of those gentlemen of remarkably extensive information whom one occasionally meets in society, who pretend to know everybody, but in reality know nobody. At Malderton's, where any stories about great people were received with a greedy ear, he was an especial favourite; and, knowing the kind of people he had to deal with, he carried his passion of claiming acquaintance with everybody, to the most immoderate length. He had rather a singular way of telling his greatest lies in a parenthesis, and with an air of self-denial, as if he feared being thought egotistical.
'Why, no, I don't know him by that name,' returned Flamwell, in a low tone, and with an air of immense importance. 'I have no doubt I know him, though. Is he tall?'
'Middle-sized,' said Miss Teresa.
'With black hair?' inquired Flamwell, hazarding a bold guess.
'Yes,' returned Miss Teresa, eagerly.
'Rather a snub nose?'
'No,' said the disappointed Teresa, 'he has a Roman nose.'
'I said a Roman nose, didn't I?' inquired Flamwell. 'He's an elegant young man?'
'Oh, certainly.'
'With remarkably prepossessing manners?'
'Oh, yes!' said all the family together. 'You must know him.'
'Yes, I thought you knew him, if he was anybody,' triumphantly exclaimed Mr. Malderton. 'Who d'ye think he is?'
'Why, from your description,' said Flamwell, ruminating, and sinking his voice, almost to a whisper, 'he bears a strong resemblance to the Honourable Augustus Fitz-Edward Fitz-John Fitz-Osborne. He's a very talented young man, and rather eccentric.
It's extremely probable he may have changed his name for some temporary purpose.'
Teresa's heart beat high. Could he be the Honourable Augustus Fitz-Edward Fitz-John Fitz-Osborne! What a name to be elegantly engraved upon two glazed cards, tied together with a piece of white satin ribbon! 'The Honourable Mrs. Augustus Fitz-Edward Fitz-John Fitz-Osborne!' The thought was transport.
'It's five minutes to five,' said Mr. Malderton, looking at his watch: 'I hope he's not going to disappoint us.'
'There he is!' exclaimed Miss Teresa, as a loud double-knock was heard at the door. Everybody endeavoured to look - as people when they particularly expect a visitor always do - as if they were perfectly unsuspicious of the approach of anybody.
The room-door opened - 'Mr. Barton!' said the servant.
'Confound the man!' murmured Malderton. 'Ah! my dear sir, how d'ye do! Any news?'
'Why no,' returned the grocer, in his usual bluff manner. 'No, none partickler. None that I am much aware of. How d'ye do, gals and boys? Mr. Flamwell, sir - glad to see you.'