THE NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. FATHERS AND SONS.* BY THE EDITOR. CHAP. IV. "WELL, Smylar," said Colonel Alexander Bruff to his Circean aide, "Jenny will be home to-day-eh? She does not think, perhaps, what we have got in store for her. She is a foolish, poking, blushing thing, with no more idea of the world than a babby." "I am not quite so sure of that, colonel," said Mrs. Smylar. "Miss Jane is quiet and gentle in manner and behaviour, 'specially before you; but I have seen a good deal of the world one way and another, and I think those meek young ladies before company, are not always the steadiest you know the proverb, colonel, the deepest stream runs quietest.' "That'll do that'll do," said the colonel; "therefore, and in that case', the sooner we settle her the better-that is, if George will take her. Who knows? It doesn't strike me that she is likely to catch many people. She is so shy-so silly-so-eh-not a word to say, Smylar." "You know her less than any body," said Smylar." If you only could hear how she talks to me, when you are away, you wouldn't think it was the same person. Somehow, colonel, I don't know what you have done, or how you have frightened her, but she is afraid of you. The minute you go, she becomes what I should call unstarched, just the same as a lady I once lived with, whose husband was as jealous a greeneyed monster as ever lived. When he was present, there she sat, poor thing, bolt upright, like a maypole in muslin, with downcast eyes and a screwed-up mouth, which, as the saying goes, was made to look as if butter wouldn't melt in it. The moment my master retired, the ice thawed; smiles lighted up her intelligent countenance, and she seemed perfectly at her ease, just as if she had got rid of the nightmare." "That'll do, Mrs. Smylar," said the colonel. "So you compare me with a nightmare, eh?" "On the contrary, sir," said Mrs. Smylar, "if the newspapers speak truly, you are more likely soon to become a Knight Commander." "That'll do that'll do," said Bruff, "I believe the newspapers are * Continued from No. ccxxxi., page 309. April.-VOL. LVIII. NO. CCXXXII. 2 G right, and you are deuced sharp and quick, and know the world a great deal more than I do-upon my life I think so-and I am sure you know more of the character and disposition of my child than I do -eh? She is all shamabram and humbug before me. So meek and so modest and so mild, and then, as you say, when my back is turned, chatters away like a bird-clapper in a cherry-tree, and does what she calls thinking for herself." "That's true enough," said Smylar. "Why don't you sit down, Smylar ?" said the colonel. "Why sir, I-perhaps-" "Do as I order you, Smylar-who cares if they do come in ?" said the colonel. "Haven't I a right to do as I like in my own house? Besides, you must obey orders; so down with you." Mrs. Smylar seated herself. "That'll do that'll do," said the colonel. "Now go on-you were saying something about Jenny's thinking for herself." "I was, colonel," said Mrs. Smylar, "and perhaps if you don't exercise a little of your authority shortly, she may choose for herself, and then there would be a pretty business!" "Business-business, do you call it ?" said the colonel. "I'd cut off her legs if she dared to think of such a thing." "If you did, colonel," said Mrs. Smylar," she would emulate the heroes of your cloth, and fight upon her stumps." "That'll do—that'll do, Smylar," said the colonel, tickled exceedingly by the facetious, yet as he thought complimentary allusion to military valour, "I'd be bound for it she would; but she couldn't so well run away." "I think, colonel," continued the insinuating siren, "that the course you have adopted is the very wisest in the world. What can she want more, than a finished gentleman, with a fine person and a title—to be sure baronetcies are not much nowadays. Why colonel, you buy your candles of one baronet; you have left off dealing for your writingpaper with another; you have quarrelled with your brewer for buying his drugs from a third, and you have in your gin for the servants' hall from a fourth; so that being my lady in that way isn't much." "That'll do," said the colonel, "you have hit the mark, but keep that to yourself, things always find their level. Grindle is a baronet of 1682- that'll do-gad you see things in a minute; what do you think of the fact, Smylar, that the same appellation which devolves upon a hero who has risked his life a hundred times over, is covered with wounds, and has lost a limb or two in the service of his country, is neither more nor less, better nor worse, than that bestowed upon a lottery-office-keeper, or a mad-house-keeper, or any shopkeeper you like, who happens to go up to court with an address upon some auspicious occasion as it is called, the only campaign in which he has ever engaged being a march from Guildhall to St. James's?" "I don't wonder at your indignation," said the accommodating Smylar, "there should be some distinction made in the title which, as I began by saying, puts the oldest baronet upon a footing, at least in a newspaper paragraph, with the last beknighted booby of the tagrag and bobtail." "That'll do, Smylar," said the colonel, "and it is all very well here, snug and tiled as we masons say, but don't indulge in this sort of talk to Jenny-my idea is that the match is a great one for her. Persuade her to it by all means, my dear Smylar, paint George Grindle perfectionyou have never seen him-but that don't matter. When you are zealous I know your powers to do-be serviceable to us. He is fair, with curly hair, and a long nose-that will guide you as to how to describe his features his figure is uncommon genteel, and if I had him at drill for a fortnight I could set him up remarkably well. But never mind his face or his figure, talk of his fortune, his place, and station, and instead of running down the baronetcy, make it out as a title of nobility-why, when carriages are called up, Lady Grindle, the baronet's wife, sounds as well as Lady Stonehenge, the oldest countess extant. In fact, Smylar, I rely upon you entirely.' "But, sir," said Smylar, "suppose she should have anticipated your choice?" "Can't, can't have done any such thing," said the colonel. "How should she?-never could have dreamt of it. never dreamt of it myself three days ago." "You misunderstand me," said Smylar, "I don't mean that she has anticipated your choice of this particular lover; but suppose she should have anticipated your choice by having, as I ventured just now to fancy possible, given her heart to somebody else?" "Her heart," said the colonel, "what's that? Give her heart without my leave and licence, that'll do-that'll do, Smylar, you are getting silly. No, no, she hasn't spirit enough to be disobedient, and if she had, what then? She may give her heart, as you call it, and a pretty gift it would be. Her hand holds the money, Smylar, and that she cannot give without my consent-so now no tampering with her, or asking her questions, or hearing any of her nonsense. She is to marry George Grindle. She knows nearly as much of him at this minute as I do. Persuade her that he is an Adonis, and convince her that he is a very great man-sooth her with promises of my affection beyond measure if she gives in to the scheme, and alarm her with threats of my severest anger if she resists." "It would be much easier for me to do all this if I had seen Mr. Grindle myself," said Mrs. Smylar, who seemed to think that she might as well make friends with the affianced husband, since such he appeared to be. "Oh," said the colonel," you'll see enough of him soon: he is to dine here on Monday with his father-quite an unexpected meeting for Jane; and before that, the less you say the better on the subject-indeed nothing will be best. She will merely receive them as ordinary visiters, and you can take the opportunity of acquainting yourself with the personal qualities of the young heir-a mighty fine gentleman, as I think, although I must say I was not in his company more than ten minutes, yesterday afternoon." "I understand, colonel," said Mrs. Smylar, "I am not to know why Miss Jane has been sent for-that is right-because, while she is at dinner with you, I can avail myself of the opportunity of discoursing Miss Harris, her maid, who ten to one, under the influence of my kindness, in giving her coffee and a chasse in my room, will let out some little history of the proceedings at Mrs. Amersham's, from which I can gather the state of our young lady's feelings and prepossessions con |