Erema; Or, My Father's SinBlackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
History
Erema; Or, My Father's Sin
Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
California -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Fathers and daughters -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
“That odious thing!” I answered, being touched by this unusual humility
of his; “you shall not give it up; and I know no wiser person. A
lapidary's tricks are below your knowledge. But if you are not tired of
me and offended, may I leave it to you to get it opened?”
“I would like nothing better,” he replied, recovering his natural
briskness and importance; “but you ought to be there, my dear; you must
be there. Are you sure that you ought not rather to take it to your good
cousin Lord Castlewood? Now think before you answer.”
“I need not think twice of that, Major Hockin. Good and learned as
my father's cousin is, he has distinctly refused to help me, for some
mysterious reason of his own, in searching into this question. Indeed,
my great hope is to do it without him: for all that I know, he might
even wish to thwart me.”
“Enough, my dear; it shall be just as you wish. I brought you to
England, and I will stand by you. My cousin, Colonel Gundry, has
committed you to me. I have no patience with malefactors. I never took
this matter up, for very many reasons; and among them not the least was
that Sampson, your beloved 'Uncle Sam,' thought it better not to do so.
But if you desire it, and now that I feel certain that an infamous wrong
has been done to you--which I heartily beg your pardon for my doubt
of--by the Lord of all justice, every thing else may go to the devil,
till I see it out. Do you desire it, Erema?”
“I certainly do not wish that any of your great works should be
neglected. But if, without that, you can give me your strong help, my
only difficulty will be to thank you.”
“I like plain speaking, and you always speak plainly; sometimes too
plainly,” he said, recollecting little times when he had the worst of
it. “How far do you trust me now?”
“Major Hockin, I trust you altogether. You may make mistakes, as all men
do--”
“Yes, yes, yes. About my own affairs; but I never do that for other
people. I pay a bill for twopence, if it is my own. If I am trustee of
it, I pay three half-pence.”
His meaning was a little beyond me now; but it seemed better not to tell
him so; for he loved to explain his own figures of speech, even when he
had no time to spare for it. And he clearly expected me to ask him to
begin; or at least it seemed so from his eyebrows. But that only came
home to me afterward.
“Please not to speak of my affairs like that,” I said, as if I were
quite stupid; “I mean to pay fourpence for every twopence--both to
friends and enemies.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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