He had received a lachrymose letter from his friend Faddle, at Aberdeen, in which the unfortunate youth had told him that he was destined to remain in that wretched northern city for the rest of his natural life. He had not as yet been to the Mountaineers since his mishap with the police, and did not care to show himself there at present. He was therefore altogether alone, and, walking all alone the entire round of the parks, he at last formed his resolution.
On the following morning when Mr Dosett entered his room at Somerset House, a little after half past ten o'clock, he found his nephew Tom there before him, and waiting for him. Mr Dosett was somewhat astonished, for he too had heard of Tom's misfortunes. Some ill-natured chronicle of Tom's latter doings had spread itself among the Tringle and Dosett sets, and Uncle Reginald was aware that his nephew had been forced to relinquish his stool in Lombard Street.
The vices of the young are perhaps too often exaggerated, so that Mr Dosett had heard of an amount of champagne consumed and a number of policemen wounded, of which his nephew had not been altogether guilty. There was an idea at Kingsbury Crescent that Tom had gone nearly mad, and was now kept under paternal care at Merle Park. When, therefore, he saw Tom blooming in health, and brighter than usual in general appearance, he was no doubt rejoiced, but also surprised, at the change. "What, Tom!" he said; "I'm glad to see you looking so well. Are you up in London again?""I'm in town for a day or two," said Tom.
"And what can I do for you?"
"Well, Uncle Reginald, you can do a great deal for me if you will. Of course you've heard of all those rows of mine?""I have heard something."
"Everybody has heard," said Tom, mournfully. "I don't suppose anybody was ever knocked so much about as I've been for the last six months.""I'm sorry for that, Tom."
"I'm sure you are, because you're always good-natured. Now Iwonder if you will do a great thing to oblige me.""Let us hear what it is," said Uncle Reginald.
"I suppose you know that there is only one thing in the world that I want. "Mr Dosett thought that it would be discreet to make no reply to this, but, turning his chair partly round, he prepared to listen very attentively to what his nephew might have to say to him. "All this about the policeman and the rest of it has simply come from my being so unhappy about Ayala.""It wouldn't be taken as a promise of your being a good husband, Tom, when you get into such a mess as that.""That's because people don't understand," said Tom. "It is because I am so earnest about it, and because I can't bear the disappointment!
There isn't one at Travers and Treason who doesn't know that if I'd married Ayala I should have settled down as quiet a young man as there is in all London. You ask the governor else himself.
As long as I thought there was any hope I used to be there steady as a rock at half past nine. Everybody knew it. So I should again, if she'd only come round.""You can't make a young lady come round, as you call it.""Not make her; no. Of course you can't make a girl. But persuading goes a long way. Why shouldn't she have me? As to all these rows, she ought to feel at any rate that they're her doing. And what she's done it stands to reason she could undo if she would. It only wants a word from her to put me all right with the governor -- and to put me all right with Travers and Treason too. Nobody can love her as I do.""I do believe that nobody could love her better," said Mr Dosett, who was beginning to be melted by his nephew's earnestness.
"Oughtn't that to go for something? And then she would have everything that she wishes. She might live anywhere she pleased -- so that I might go to the office every day. She would have her own carriage, you know.""I don't think that would matter much with Ayala.""It shows that I'm in a position to ask her," said Tom. "If she could only bring herself not to hate me -- ""There is a difference, Tom, between hating and not loving.""If she would only begin to make a little way, then I could hope again. Uncle Reginald, could you not tell her that at any rate I would be good to her?""I think you would be good to her," he said.
"Indeed, I would. There is nothing I would not do for her. Now will you let me see her just once again, and have one other chance?"This was the great thing which Tom desired from his uncle, and Mr Dosett was so much softened by his nephew's earnestness that he did promise to do as much as this -- to do as much as this, at least, if it were in his power. Of course, Ayala must be told.
No good could be done by surprising her by a visit. But he would endeavour so to arrange it that, if Tom were to come to him on the following afternoon, they two should go to the Crescent together, and then Tom should remain and dine there -- or go away before dinner, as he might please, after the interview. This was settled, and Tom left Somerset House, rejoicing greatly at his success.
It seemed to him that now at last a way was open to him.
Uncle Reginald, on his return home, took his niece aside and talked to her very gently and very kindly. "Whether you like him or whether you do not, my dear, he is so true to you that you are bound to see him again when he asks it." At first she was very stout, declaring that she would not see him. Of what good could it be, seeing that she would rather throw herself into the Thames than marry him? Had she not told him so over and over again, as often as he had spoken to her? Why would he not just leave her alone? But against all this her uncle pleaded gently but persistently. He had considered himself bound to promise so much on her behalf, and for his sake she must do as he asked.
