Very pleasant correspondence. As soon as Joey arrived at the metropolis, he went to the correspondent of the house at Portsmouth to inquire for letters. He found one of the greatest interest from Mr. Small, who, after some preliminaries relative to the business and certain commissions for him to transact in town, proceeded as follows:—
"Your health has been a source of great anxiety to us
all, not only in the counting-house, but in the drawing-room; the cause
of your illness was ascribed to over-exertion in your duties, and it
must be admitted, that until you were ill there was no relaxation on
your part; but we have reason to suppose that there have been other
causes which may have occasioned your rapid change from activity and
cheerfulness to such a total prostration of body and mind. You may feel
grieved when I tell you that Emma has been very unwell since you left,
and the cause of her illness is beyond the skill of Mr. Taylor, our
medical man. She has, however, confided so much to her mother as to let
us know that you are the party who has been the chief occasion of it.
She has acknowledged that she has not behaved well to you, and has not
done you justice; and I really believe that it is this conviction which
is the chief ground of her altered state of health. I certainly have
been too much in the counting-house to know what has been going on in
the parlour, but I think that you ought to know us better than to
suppose that we should not in every point be most anxious for your
happiness, and your being constantly with us. That Emma blames herself
is certain; that she is very amiable, is equally so; your return would
give us the greatest satisfaction. I hardly need say I love my niece,
and am anxious for her happiness; I love you, my dear friend, and am
equally anxious for yours; and I do trust that any trifling
disagreement between you (for surely you must be on intimate terms to
quarrel, and for her to feel the quarrel so severely) will be speedily
overcome. From what her mother says, I think that her affections are
seriously engaged (I treat you with the confidence I am sure you
deserve), and I am sure that there is no one upon whom I would so
willingly bestow my niece; or as I find by questioning, no one to whom
Mrs. Phillips would so willingly entrust her daughter. If; then, I am
right in my supposition, you will be received with open arms by all,
not even excepting Emma —she has no coquetry in her composition. Like
all the rest of us, she has her faults; but if she has her faults, she
is not too proud to acknowledge them, and that you will allow when you
read the enclosed, which she has requested me to send to you, and at
the same time desired me to read it first. I trust this communication
will accelerate your recovery, and that we shall soon see you again. At
all events, answer my letter, and if I am in error, let me know, that I
may undeceive others."
The enclosure from Emma was then opened by our hero; it was in few words:—
"My dear friend, —On reflection, I consider that I
have treated you unjustly; I intended to tell you so, if I had had an
opportunity, before you quitted us so hastily. My fault has preyed upon
my mind ever since, and I cannot lose this first opportunity of
requesting your forgiveness, and hoping that when we meet we shall be
on the same friendly terms that we always had been previous to my
unfortunate ebullition of temper. —Yours truly, Emma."
That this letter was a source of unqualified delight to our hero, may be easily imagined. He was at once told by the uncle, and certainly Emma did not leave him to suppose the contrary, that he might aspire and obtain her hand. Our hero could not reply to it by return of post. If distress had occasioned his illness, joy now prostrated him still more; and he was compelled to return to his bed; but he was happy, almost too happy, and he slept at last, and he dreamt such visions as only can be conjured up by those who have in anticipation every wish of their heart gratified. The next day he replied to Mr. Small's, acknowledging, with frankness, his feelings towards his niece, which a sense of his own humble origin and unworthiness had prevented him from venturing to disclose, and requesting him to use his influence in his favour, as he dared not speak himself; until he had received such assurance of his unmerited good fortune as might encourage him so to do. To Emma, his reply was in a few words; he thanked her for her continued good opinion of him, the idea of having lost which had made him very miserable, assuring her that he was ashamed of the petulance which he had shown, and that it was for him to have asked pardon, and not one who had behaved so kindly, and protected him for so long a period; that he felt much better already, and hoped to be able to shorten the time of absence which had been demanded by him and kindly granted by his patrons. Having concluded and despatched these epistles, our hero determined that he would take a stroll about the metropolis.
