BOOK VIII. CONTAINING ABOUT TWO DAYS.
13. Chapter xiii. In which the foregoing story is farther continued.
(continued)
"Most of those present seemed affected by this scene, which we, who
might be considered as the actors in it, were desirous of removing
from the eyes of all spectators as fast as we could; my father
therefore accepted the kind offer of the surgeon's chariot, and I
attended him in it to his inn.
"When we were alone together, he gently upbraided me with having
neglected to write to him during so long a time, but entirely omitted
the mention of that crime which had occasioned it. He then informed me
of my mother's death, and insisted on my returning home with him,
saying, `That he had long suffered the greatest anxiety on my account;
that he knew not whether he had most feared my death or wished it,
since he had so many more dreadful apprehensions for me. At last, he
said, a neighbouring gentleman, who had just recovered a son from the
same place, informed him where I was; and that to reclaim me from this
course of life was the sole cause of his journey to London.' He
thanked Heaven he had succeeded so far as to find me out by means of
an accident which had like to have proved fatal to him; and had the
pleasure to think he partly owed his preservation to my humanity, with
which he profest himself to be more delighted than he should have been
with my filial piety, if I had known that the object of all my care
was my own father.
"Vice had not so depraved my heart as to excite in it an insensibility
of so much paternal affection, though so unworthily bestowed. I
presently promised to obey his commands in my return home with him, as
soon as he was able to travel, which indeed he was in a very few days,
by the assistance of that excellent surgeon who had undertaken his
cure.
"The day preceding my father's journey (before which time I scarce
ever left him), I went to take my leave of some of my most intimate
acquaintance, particularly of Mr Watson, who dissuaded me from burying
myself, as he called it, out of a simple compliance with the fond
desires of a foolish old fellow. Such sollicitations, however, had no
effect, and I once more saw my own home. My father now greatly
sollicited me to think of marriage; but my inclinations were utterly
averse to any such thoughts. I had tasted of love already, and perhaps
you know the extravagant excesses of that most tender and most violent
passion."--Here the old gentleman paused, and looked earnestly at
Jones; whose countenance, within a minute's space, displayed the
extremities of both red and white. Upon which the old man, without
making any observations, renewed his narrative.
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