The Days of My Life: An AutobiographyOliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
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The Days of My Life: An Autobiography
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret), 1828-1897
As there was no answer for a moment, I glanced shyly under the hand
which supported my head at Harry. To my great surprise, he seemed
strangely and painfully agitated. There was a deep color on his face. He
did not lift his eyes, but shifted uneasily, and almost with an air of
guilt, upon his chair; and he began to speak abruptly with an emotion
which the subject surely did not deserve.
"Hester is worth a greater sacrifice than that of a name like mine," he
said; "it would give me pleasure to show my sense of the honor you do me
by admitting me into your family. I have no connexions whom I can gain
by abandoning my own name, and I have no love for it, even though Hester
has made it pleasanter to my ear. Let me be called Southcote. I would
have proposed it myself had I thought it would be agreeable to you. You
have no son. When you give Hester to me, make me altogether your
representative. I will feel you do me a favor. Pray let us settle it
so."
My father looked at him with more scrutinizing eyes--"When I was your
age, young man, not for all the bounties of life, would I have
relinquished my name."
Once more Harry blushed painfully. I too, for the moment, would rather
that he had not made this proposal, yet how very kind it was of him! and
I could not but appreciate the sacrifice which he made for me.
"Your name was the name of a venerable family, distinguished and dear to
you," he said, after a little pause. "I am an orphan, with no
recollections that endear it to me. Nay, Mr. Southcote, do not fear, I
have no antecedents which make me ashamed of it; but for Hester's sake
and yours, I will gladly relinquish this name of mine. If you do not
wish it, that is another question."
There was a suppressed eagerness in his tone which impressed me very
strangely. I could understand how, in an impulse of generosity, he could
make the proposal; but I could not tell why he should be so anxious
about it. It was very strange.
"I have not sufficient self-denial to say that," said my father. "I do
wish it. It will gratify me more than anything else can, and I do not
see indeed why, being satisfied on every other point, I should quarrel
with you for proposing to do what I most desire; but regard for his own
name is so universal in every man, I confess in other circumstances I
should have been disposed to despise the man who accepted my heiress and
her name with her. You, of course, are in an entirely different
position. I can only accept your offer with gratitude. It is true, as
you say, I have no son--you shall be my representative--yes, and I will
be glad to think," said my father, with a momentary softening, and in a
slow and lingering tone, "that she is Hester Southcote still."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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