8. Chapter viii. What passed between Jones and old Mr Nightingale...
(continued)
Thus it happened to Nightingale, who no sooner found that Jones had no
demand on him, as he suspected, than he began to be pleased with his
presence. "Pray, good sir," said he, "be pleased to sit down. I do not
remember to have ever had the pleasure of seeing you before; but if
you are a friend of my son, and have anything to say concerning this
young lady, I shall be glad to hear you. As to her making him happy,
it will be his own fault if she doth not. I have discharged my duty,
in taking care of the main article. She will bring him a fortune
capable of making any reasonable, prudent, sober man, happy."
"Undoubtedly," cries Jones, "for she is in herself a fortune; so
beautiful, so genteel, so sweet-tempered, and so well-educated; she is
indeed a most accomplished young lady; sings admirably well, and hath
a most delicate hand at the harpsichord." "I did not know any of these
matters," answered the old gentleman, "for I never saw the lady: but I
do not like her the worse for what you tell me; and I am the better
pleased with her father for not laying any stress on these
qualifications in our bargain. I shall always think it a proof of his
understanding. A silly fellow would have brought in these articles as
an addition to her fortune; but, to give him his due, he never
mentioned any such matter; though to be sure they are no
disparagements to a woman." "I do assure you, sir," cries Jones, "she
hath them all in the most eminent degree: for my part, I own I was
afraid you might have been a little backward, a little less inclined
to the match; for your son told me you had never seen the lady;
therefore I came, sir, in that case, to entreat you, to conjure you,
as you value the happiness of your son, not to be averse to his match
with a woman who hath not only all the good qualities I have
mentioned, but many more."--"If that was your business, sir," said the
old gentleman, "we are both obliged to you; and you may be perfectly
easy; for I give you my word I was very well satisfied with her
fortune." "Sir," answered Jones, "I honour you every moment more and
more. To be so easily satisfied, so very moderate on that account, is
a proof of the soundness of your understanding, as well as the
nobleness of your mind."----"Not so very moderate, young gentleman,
not so very moderate," answered the father.--"Still more and more
noble," replied Jones; "and give me leave to add, sensible: for sure
it is little less than madness to consider money as the sole
foundation of happiness. Such a woman as this with her little, her
nothing of a fortune"--"I find," cries the old gentleman, "you have a
pretty just opinion of money, my friend, or else you are better
acquainted with the person of the lady than with her circumstances.
Why, pray, what fortune do you imagine this lady to have?" "What
fortune?" cries Jones, "why, too contemptible a one to be named for
your son."--"Well, well, well," said the other, "perhaps he might have
done better."--"That I deny," said Jones, "for she is one of the best
of women."--"Ay, ay, but in point of fortune I mean," answered the
other. "And yet, as to that now, how much do you imagine your friend
is to have?"--"How much?" cries Jones, "how much? Why, at the utmost,
perhaps L200." "Do you mean to banter me, young gentleman?" said the
father, a little angry. "No, upon my soul," answered Jones, "I am in
earnest: nay, I believe I have gone to the utmost farthing. If I do
the lady an injury, I ask her pardon." "Indeed you do," cries the
father; "I am certain she hath fifty times that sum, and she shall
produce fifty to that before I consent that she shall marry my son."
"Nay," said Jones, "it is too late to talk of consent now; if she had
not fifty farthings your son is married."--"My son married!" answered
the old gentleman, with surprize. "Nay," said Jones, "I thought you
was unacquainted with it." "My son married to Miss Harris!" answered
he again. "To Miss Harris!" said Jones; "no, sir; to Miss Nancy
Miller, the daughter of Mrs Miller, at whose house he lodged; a young
lady, who, though her mother is reduced to let lodgings--"--"Are you
bantering, or are you in earnest?" cries the father, with a most
solemn voice. "Indeed, sir," answered Jones, "I scorn the character of
a banterer. I came to you in most serious earnest, imagining, as I
find true, that your son had never dared acquaint you with a match so
much inferior to him in point of fortune, though the reputation of the
lady will suffer it no longer to remain a secret."