"But if you have not lost your fortune, you have not lost your credit, I presume," said my mother.

"I have a character as a gentleman, Mrs. Harrington."

"Of course."

"A character for consistency, Mrs. Harrington, to preserve."

"'Tis a hard thing to preserve, no doubt," said my mother.

"But I wish you'd speak plain, for my nerves can't bear it."

"Then I can tell you, Mrs. Harrington, your nerves have a great deal to bear yet. What will your nerves feel, madam--what will your enthusiasm say, sir--when I tell you, that I have lost my heart to--a Jewess?"

"Berenice!" cried I.

"Impossible!" cried my mother. "How came you to see her?"

"That's not for you to know yet; but first, young gentleman, you who are hanging on tenter-hooks, you must hang there a little longer."

"As long as you please, my dear father," said I.

"_Your dear father_!--ay, I'm very dear to you now, because you are in hopes, sir, I shall turn fool, and break my vow into the bargain; but I am not come to _that_ yet, my good sir--I have some consistency."

"Oh! never mind your consistency, for mercy's sake, Mr. Harrington,"

said my mother, "only tell us your story, for I really am dying to hear it, and I am so weak."

"Ring the bell for dinner," said my father, "for Mrs. Harrington's so weak, I'll keep my story till after dinner." My mother protested she was quite strong, and we both held my father fast, insisting--he being in such excellent humour and spirits that we might insist--insisting upon his telling his story before he should have any dinner.

"Where was I?" said he.

"You know best," said my mother; "you said you had lost your heart to a Jewess, and Harrington exclaimed _Berenice!_ and that's all I've heard yet."

"Very well, then, let us leave Berenice for the present"--I groaned--"and go to her father, Mr. Montenero, and to a certain Mrs.

Coates."

"Mrs. Coates! did you see her too?" cried my mother: "you seem to have seen every body in the world this morning, Mr. Harrington. How happened it that you saw vulgar Mrs. Coates?"

"Unless I shut my eyes, how can I avoid seeing vulgar people, madam?

and how can I tell my story, Mrs. Harrington, if you interrupt me perpetually, to ask how I came to see every soul and body I mention?"

"I will interrupt you no more," said my mother, submissively, for she was curious.

I placed an arm-chair for my father--in my whole life I never felt so dutiful or so impatient.

"There, now," said my father, taking his seat in the chair, "if you will promise not to interrupt me any more, I will tell you my story regularly. I went to Baldwin's bank: I found a great crowd, all pressing their demands--the clerks as busy as they could be, and all putting a good face upon the matter. The head-clerk I saw was vexed at the sight of me--he came out from behind his desk, and begged I would go up stairs to Mr. Baldwin, who wished to speak to me. I was shown up stairs to Mr.

Baldwin, with whom I found a remarkably gentlemanlike foreign-looking man.

"Yes, sir--yes, ma'am--Mr. Montenero: it is well you did not either of you interrupt me to tell me his name, for if you had, I would not have told you a word more. Well, Mr. Baldwin, evidently wishing me at the devil, came forward to receive me, and, in great perplexity, said he would be at my command; he would settle my business immediately; but must beg my pardon for five minutes, while he settled with this gentleman, _Mr. Montenero_. On hearing the name, I am sure my look would have said plain enough to any man alive but Baldwin, that I did not choose to be introduced; but Baldwin has no breeding: so it was _Mr.

Montenero, Mr. Harrington--Mr. Harrington, Mr. Montenero_. I bowed, and wished the _Jew_ in the Red Sea, and Baldwin along with him. I then took up a newspaper and retreated to the window, begging that I might not be any interruption. The cursed paper was four days old, so I put it down; and as I stood looking at nothing out of the window, I heard Baldwin going on with your Jew. They had a load of papers on the table, which Baldwin kept shuffling, as he talked about the losses the house had sustained by the sudden death of Alderman Coates, and the sad bankruptcy of the executors. Baldwin seasoned high with compliments to the Jew upon his known liberality and generosity, and was trying to get him to enter into some security, which the Jew refused, saying that what he gave he gave willingly, but he would not enter into security: he added, that the alderman and his family had been unjustifiably extravagant; but on condition that all was given up fairly to the creditors, and a new course entered upon, he and his daughter would take care that the widow should be provided for properly. As princ.i.p.al creditor, Mr. Baldwin would, by this means, be first satisfied. I could not help thinking that all the Jew said was fair enough, and firm too; but when he had said and done, I wondered that he did not go away. He and Baldwin came to the window to which I had retreated, and Baldwin, like a city bear as he is, got in his awkward way between us, and seizing one b.u.t.ton of my coat and one of Mr. Montenero's, held us there face to face, while he went on talking of my demand on the house.

"'You see, Mr. Harrington,' said he, 'how we are circ.u.mstanced. The property of the firm is able to answer all fair demands in due course.

But here's a set and a run made against us, and no house could stand without the a.s.sistance, that is, the forbearance of friends--that's what we must look to. Some of our friends, in particular Mr. Montenero, have been very friendly indeed--very handsome and liberal--and we have nothing to say; we cannot, in reason, expect him to do more for the Coates's or for us.' And then came accounts of the executors, &c., in his banking jargon.

"What the deuce was all this to me, you know? and how awkward I felt, held by the b.u.t.ton there, to rejudge Mr. Montenero's acts! I had nothing for it but my snuff-box. But Baldwin's a mere clerk--cannot guess at the feelings of a gentleman. Mr. Montenero, I observed, looked down upon Baldwin all the time with so much the air of a high-bred gentleman, that I began to think he could not be the Jew--Montenero.

"Baldwin, still thinking only of holding him up as an example to me, went on, saying, 'Mr. Montenero, who is a foreigner, and a stranger to the house, has done so and so, and we trust our old friends will do as much--Mr. Harrington in particular. There's our books on the table, open to Mr. Harrington--he will see we shall be provided on the fifteenth instant; but, in short, if Mr. Harrington draws his 30,000 to-day, he drives us to pay in sixpences--so there's the case.' In short, it came to this: if I drew, I certainly ruined them; if I did not draw, I ran a great hazard of being ruined myself. No, Baldwin would not have it that way--so when he had stated it after his own fashion, and put it into and out of his banker's jargon, it came out to be, that if I drew directly I was certain to lose the whole; and if I did not draw, I should have a good chance of losing a great part. I pulled my b.u.t.ton away from the fellow, and without listening to any more of his jabbering, for I saw he was only speaking _against time_, and all on his own side of the question, I turned to look at the books, of which I knew I never should make head or tail, being no auditor of accounts, but a plain country gentleman. While I was turning over their confounded day-books and ledgers in despair, your Jew, Harrington, came up to me, and with such a manner as I did not conceive a Jew could have--but he is a Spanish Jew--that makes all the difference, I suppose--'Mr. Harrington,' said he, 'though I am a stranger to you, permit me to offer my services in this business--I have some right to do so, as I have accepted of services, and am under real obligations to Mr. Harrington, your son, a young gentleman for whom I feel the highest attachment as well as grat.i.tude, but of whom I will now say only, that he has been one of the chief means of saving my life and my character. His father cannot, therefore, I think, refuse to let me show at least some sense of the obligations I have willingly received. My collection of Spanish pictures, which, without your son's exertions, I could not have saved on the night of the riot, has been estimated by your best English connoisseurs at 60,000. Three English n.o.blemen are at this moment ready to pay down 30,000 for a few of these pictures: this will secure Mr.

Harrington's demand on this house. If you, Mr. Baldwin, pay him, before three hours are over the money shall be with you. It is no sacrifice of my taste or of my pictures,' continued your n.o.ble Jew, in answer to my scruples: 'I lodge them with three different bankers only for security for the money. If Mr. Baldwin stands the storm, we are all as we were--my pictures into the bargain. If the worst happen, I lose only a few instead of all my collection.'

"This was very generous--quite n.o.ble, but you know I am an obstinate old fellow. I had still the Jewess, the daughter, running in my head, and I thought, perhaps, I was to be asked for my _consent_, you know, Harrington, or some sly underplot of that kind.

"Mr. Montenero has a quick eye--I perceived that he saw into my thoughts; but we could not speak to our purpose before Baldwin, and Baldwin would never think of stirring, if one was dying to get him out of the room. Luckily, however, he was called away by one of the clerks.

"Then Mr. Montenero, who speaks more to the point than any man I ever heard, spoke directly of your love for his daughter, and said he understood that it would not be a match that I should approve. I pleaded my principles and religious difficulties:--he replied, 'We need not enter into that, for the present business I must consider as totally independent of any view to future connexion:'--if his daughter was going to be married to-morrow to another man, he should do exactly the same as he now proposed to do. He did not lessen her fortune:--he should say nothing of what her sense of grat.i.tude was and ought to be--she had nothing to do with the business.

"When I found that my _Jupiter Amman_ was in no danger, and that the love affair was to be kept clear out of the question, I was delighted with your generous Jew, Harrington, and I frankly accepted his offer.

Baldwin came in again, was quite happy when he heard how it was settled, gave me three drafts at thirty-one days for my money on the bankers Mr.

Montenero named: here I have them safe in my pocket. Mr. Montenero then said, he would go immediately and perform his part of the business; and, as he left the room, he begged Mr. Baldwin to tell his daughter that he would call for her in an hour.

"I now, for the first time, understood that the daughter was in the house; and I certainly felt a curiosity to see her. Baldwin told me she was settling some business, signing some papers in favour of poor Mrs.

Coates, the alderman's widow. He added, that the Jewess was a charming creature, and as generous as her father:--he told all she had done for this widow and her children, on account of some kindness her mother had received in early life from the Coates's family; and then there was a history of some other family of Manessas--I never heard Baldwin eloquent but this day, in speaking of your Jewess:--Harrington, I believe he is in love with her himself. I said I should like to see her, if it could be managed.

"Nothing easier, if I would partake of a cold collation just serving in the next room for the friends of the house.

"You know the nearer a man is to being ruined, the better he must entertain his friends. I walked into the next room, when collation time came, and I saw Miss Montenero. Though I had given him a broad hint--but the fellow understands nothing but his IOU's--he fell to introducing of course: she is a most interesting-looking creature, I acknowledge, my boy, if--she were not a Jewess. I thought she would have sunk into the earth when she heard my name. I could not eat one morsel of the man's collation--so--Ring for dinner, and let us say no more about the matter at present: there is my oath against it, you know--there is an end of the matter--don't let me hear a word from you, Harrington--I am tired to death, quite exhausted, body and mind."

I refrained most dutifully, and most prudently, from saying one word more on the subject, till my father, after dinner, and after being refreshed by a sound and long-protracted sleep, began again to speak of Mr. and Miss Montenero. This was the first time he omitted to call them the Jew and Jewess. He condescended to say repeatedly, and with many oaths, that they both deserved to be Christians--that if there was any chance of the girl's conversion, even _he_ would overlook the father's being a Jew, as he was such a n.o.ble fellow. Love could do wonders--as my father knew when he was a young man--perhaps I might bring about her conversion, and then all would be smooth and right, and no oath against it.

I thanked my father for the kind concessions he now appeared willing to make for my happiness, and from step to step, at each step repeating that he did not want to hear a syllable about the matter, he made me tell him every thing that had pa.s.sed. Mowbray's rivalship and treachery excited his indignation in the highest degree: he was heartily glad that fellow was refused--he liked the girl for refusing him--some spirit--he liked spirit--and he should be glad that his son carried away the prize.

He interrupted himself to tell me some of the feats of gallantry of his younger days, and of the manner in which he had at last carried off my mother from a rascal of a rival--a Lord Mowbray of those times.

When my father had got to this point, my mother ventured to ask whether I had ever gone so far as to propose, actually to _propose_, for Miss Montenero.

"Yes."

Both father and mother turned about, and asked, "What answer?"

I repeated, as nearly as I could, Mr. Montenero's words--and I produced his note.

Both excited surprise and curiosity.

"What can this obstacle--this mysterious obstacle be?" said my mother.

"An obstacle on their side!" exclaimed my father: "is that possible?"

I had now, at least, the pleasure of enjoying their sympathy: and of hearing them go over all the conjectures by which I had been bewildered.

I observed that the less chance there appeared to be of the match, the more my father and mother inclined towards it.