My creditors, looking with great certainty for
their money, now that my long-talked-of uncle had
got to town, having waited a couple of weeks for

[figure description] Page 218.[end figure description]

payment in vain, began to besiege me in a highly
importunate way; and as no assistance was to be
had of my uncle, and Sammy's purse was not so
well filled as I could have wished, I was reduced
to great straits.

Conversing on this subject with my friend Tickle,
he advised me to visit old Goldfist, as I (that is,
my prototype, the true Dawkins) had often done
before, and see what could be had out of him on
the strength of my projected nuptials.

The advice being as good as could be had (for
Tickle's pockets were as empty as my own), I proceeded
to the old fellow's house after nightfall—
for I did not care to be observed.

Having knocked at the door, it was opened by no
less a person than Skinner's fair daughter herself,
as I soon discovered; and, in fact, I had some faint
recollection of having seen her before. There was
a lamp on the pavement before the door, by which
I could see her very plainly. She blushed, and
smiled, and looked confused, and when I asked for
her father, made me some answer which I did not
understand; but, as she invited me to enter, I followed
her into the house, expecting to be led to the
money-lender. She conducted me, however, to a
parlour, not over and above well furnished, for
Skinner was a notorious skinflint, when, having
vouchsafed to converse with her a while, I again
asked after her father.

She told me he was not at home; but seeing me
rise to depart, she stammered out an assurance

[figure description] Page 219.[end figure description]

that he would soon return; which caused me to
resume my seat, evidently to her great pleasure.

Seeing this, I condescended to make myself
agreeable, and with such effect, that the simple-hearted
foolish creature began to tell me how often
she had seen me at her father's house a year or
two before, when she was a little school-girl, as
she said, and how glad she was to see me back
again; as if, a year or two before, we had been intimate
acquaintances; when, on the contrary, as my
associations assured me, I (or my original) had
never taken the slightest notice of her—as, in truth,
why should I, her father being so much beneath me?

I believe I rather gave her a stare; but she
looked so admiringly at me, I could do no less than
continue to be agreeable; and, to tell the truth, I
was afterward amazed at my condescension.

By-and-by there dropped in one of her brothers,
a very fine looking young man for one of his rank
in life, but of a dissipated, under-the-table look,
and, I thought, somewhat julapized—which is a
word that, among certain classes, signifies that one
is not sober. However, he behaved with great decorum,
and instead of taking a seat, as I expected,
to make my acquaintance, he gave me a nod and a
laugh, as much as to say, “I know what you're
after, my boy,” and went stumbling into the back
part of the house.

In a few moments after there came another
equally good looking, but not so obliging; for he
helped himself to a seat without any ceremony,

[figure description] Page 220.[end figure description]

and, with just as little, proceeded to inform me “he
supposed I was after dad; but dad was fast on an
arbitration, and would not be home for at least
three hours.”

Poor Alicia, for that was her name (and in this
particular she was better provided than my cousin
Pattie), gave her brother an angry look; for at this
announcement I got up and took my leave. She
followed me, however, to the door, and told me if
I would come at about eight o'clock on the following
evening, I would find her papa at home; and
she added, softly, that she would be glad to see
me.—She glad to see me! poor soul!

I went, though, according to appointment; and,
poor soul, she was glad to see me, as was plain
enough, but “sorry that papa had not yet got
through with that arbitration; and so I could not
see him, unless I would be so good as to wait until
he came home; and, if I would, it would be charity,
for there was nobody in the house with her
except old Barbara, the housekeeper, who was but
poor company,—and, indeed, she had but poor
company always, living a very lonesome life of it,”
&c. &c.; and she concluded by promising, if I
would sit down, to play me a tune upon the piano!

She played me a tune accordingly, and horrid
work she made of it; but, as she did her best, I
praised her, and that pleased her. She then, to
show me that she was accomplished, introduced me
to divers bits of paper with colours on them, which
she told me were drawings, and, as I knew but

[figure description] Page 221.[end figure description]

little of such things, I took her word for it; after
which she exhibited some two or three dozen handsome-looking
volumes in French and Italian, of
which languages I knew no more than dandies in
general; and for that reason I told her such things
were now considered bores, and left to children and
schoolmasters.

I perceived we were to have a tête-à-tête of it,
and I began to suspect the lassie knew so when
she invited me. When this idea entered my mind,
I felt a little indignant; yet it was diverting to think
of her simplicity. I thought I would amuse myself
with her a little while, and unbend from the
austerity of dignity, which seemed to gratify her
most.

In this humour I permitted myself to be merry
and easy; and having romped with her one way
and another, much to her delight, I at last seized
upon her, and gave her a buss; whereupon she
acted pretty much as my cousin Pattie had done
before her,—that is, she laughed, and blushed, and
cried “Oh la!” but looking all the time any thing
but incensed.

In short, my condescension affected her to that
degree, that she began to treat me as her most undoubted
friend; and, in the height of her confidence,
informed me that she was just eighteen
years old, minus two months (the very age of my
cousin Pattie); that she was her father's favourite
(as far as any one could be the favourite of such a
curmudgeon); and that besides her fine expectations

[figure description] Page 222.[end figure description]

from him, she enjoyed in her own right a fortune
of twenty thousand dollars—a bequest from some
old aunt or other—which she would come into
possession of as soon as the aforesaid two months
and a few odd days had expired.

This was news that affected me very strongly;
and had her father been a gentleman, all things
considered, I believe I should have made her a declaration
on the spot.

As it was, I felt my soul growing tender towards
her; for though twenty thousand dollars was but a
small sum, it was, if I could take her word for it,
certain; which was not yet the case with any of
my cousin Pattie's expectations. However, before
I could digest the information, we were surprised
by the turning of a dead-latch key in the front door,
and Alicia cried, with a tone of disappointment,
“Oh la! it is papa!”—And so it was.

The old gentleman looked upon the open piano,
and the books and drawings upon the table, with
surprise, and then upon me with uneasiness.

“Mr. Dawkins has been waiting, papa,” said
Alicia.

“Humph!” said old Goldfist, and pointed her to
the door. She stole me a look, and, as she passed
out, raised her hand archly to her lips. She was
rather free, I confess; but she had lived a secluded
life, and knew no better.

The old fellow gave me a sharp look, coughed
phthisically twice or thrice, and then, with but
little superfluous ceremony, asked me what I
wanted.

[figure description] Page 223.[end figure description]

“Money,” said I.

“Oh, ay, always money. Who is to pay it?
What's your security?”

“My uncle Wilkins,” said I.

“Very good name, don't doubt,” growled the
bear; “the banks will take it. Don't do any business
of that sort.”

“Ged, faith, no,” said I; “I don't come for
money at six per cent., but on the old terms of
usury. You know my uncle Wilkins, eh? Only
two children—a fortune of eight hundred and
seventy thousand dollars.”

“Bah!” said the bull, “that will do for the girls
and boys. Know all about him; one hundred and
twenty, and half of it in railroads—good for nothing.”

“Two hundred and ninety, bona fide,” said I,
“and half of it in bank-stock.”

“Know all about it,” said Mr. Skinner; “but
what's that to you? Has a son of his own.”

“And a daughter,” said I, giving him a nod,
which brought a Christian look into his face, and,
doubtless, a Christian feeling into his hearts. I
took advantage of it to inform him that she and I
were about to elope, and wanted a thousand dollars
to bear our expenses; assuring him also that her
father was on the eve of making her a grant of
fifty thousand dollars, as soon as which was done,
we should be off at a moment's warning. To be
brief, I told the old fellow all that was necessary
for my purpose, and made so good a story of it,

[figure description] Page 224.[end figure description]

that I have no doubt I should have got something
out of him, had not my evil genius suddenly
prompted me to refer to his own daughter Alicia,
and ask him what he intended to give her, over
and above her own twenty thousand?

He looked as black as midnight, and asked “who
told me she had such a sum?”

I saw I had alarmed him, and said I had it of a
friend of mine, a very fine fellow, who thought of
taking her off his hands, provided he would add
twenty more to it.

“Want no fine fellows, and no friends of yours,”
said he, gruffly; “won't give her a cent, and has
nothing of her own; all a fool's story—told you so
herself—a jade's trick; never told a truth in her
life.”

The old miser's soul was up in arms; the prospect
of being called upon in two months' space to
render up the girl's portion to a son-in-law, was so
much Scotch snuff thrown into his eyes; if it did
not blind, it at least distracted him: and the reward
I had for conjuring up the vision was my own
dismissal, notwithstanding all my arguments to the
contrary, with my pockets as empty as when I
entered, a rude assurance that he had closed accounts
with me, and a highly impertinent request
that I would avoid troubling him for the future.

So I got no money of him, but his daughter fell
in love with me; and the next day she sent me
by the post a very tender and romantic billetdoux,
in which she lamented her father's harshness and

[figure description] Page 225.[end figure description]

barbarity, hoped I would not think ill of her for
venturing upon an apology, and concluded by informing
me, with agreeable simplicity, that her
father was never at home between eight and nine
o'clock in the evening, when the weather was
clear. From all which I understood, that she was
as ready to run away with me as my cousin Pattie.

Having pondered over the matter for a while, it
appeared to me proper to encourage her enthusiasm;
so that, in the event of my uncle Wilkins
refusing to make Pattie independent, I might be
certain of a wife who could bring me something.
I had many objections, indeed, to the lady's family
and relations; but the latter I could easily cut
in case of necessity, and the other I considered
scarce worth thinking of. Her twenty thousand
dollars was a strong recommendation; and there
was no telling what her father might leave her, if
reconciled after her marriage. I liked my cousin
Pattie best; but, upon the whole, I considered it
advisable to have a second string to my bow.

With this impression on my mind, I took occasion
to drop in upon her the first clear evening,
repeating the visit now and then, as suited my
convenience, and promised to run away with her
upon the first fitting occasion. And this promise
I resolved to keep, provided my affairs with my
cousin Pattie should render it advisable.

p016-235

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