It is a human failing to run into extremes. No man is quite so good or
bad as he is represented to be by his admirers and detractors. In his
anxiety to prejudice Aaron against Lord Storndale's son Mr. Dillworthy
had done the young man an injustice. A scapegrace he was, without
doubt, but he had been reared into his vices and extravagancies--it
may be said with truth carefully reared--and he was certainly no worse
than hundreds of other men who are brought up with no definite aim in
life, and educated without any sensible and serious effort being made
to impress them with life's responsibilities. He had, indeed, the
advantage of many, for although he considered it perfectly excusable
to get into debt with tradesmen, and to borrow from money lenders
without any expectation of being able to pay either one or the other,
he would not have descended so low as to pick a pocket or cheat at
cards. More of the pigeon than the gull, he looked always to his
family to get him out of his scrapes; he believed it to be their duty;
and it was upon him, not upon them, that injustice was inflicted when
he was thrown entirely upon his own resources, and when he was given
to understand that for the future he would have to settle his own
liabilities.
He was fair-haired and blue-eyed, and passably good-looking; beyond
this there was nothing remarkable in his appearance; but there was
that air of good humor and careless ease about him which generally
wins favor with women who do not look beneath the surface.
Just now he was manifestly ill at ease, for he had never before been
engaged upon a mission so awkward and embarrassing.
That he was impressed by Aaron's dignified manner was evident; he had
expected to meet a man of a different stamp.
Each waited for the other to speak, and Aaron was not the first to
break the silence.
"I have taken the liberty of visiting you upon a rather delicate
matter," said the young gentleman, "and it is more difficult than I
anticipated."
"Yes?" said Aaron, and said no more.
The monosyllable was uttered in the form of a half question, and did
not lessen the difficulties in the young man's way.
"Yes," he replied, and was at a loss how to continue; but again Aaron
did not assist him.
"Upon my honor," he said at length, "I would not undertake to say
whether I would rather be in this room than out of it, or out of it
than in it."
He gave a weak laugh here, with a half idea that he had said something
rather clever, but still he met with no encouragement from Aaron.
"It is so difficult, you see," he added. "I do not suppose you know
me."
"No," said Aaron. "I do not know you."
"I thought it possible that your daughter, Miss Cohen, you know, might
have mentioned me to you."
"She has never done so."
"It was my fault entirely. I said, on no account; and naturally she
gave in."
"Did she wish to mention you to me?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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