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The squire gave him a good curse at his departure; and then turning to the parson, he cried out, I smoke it: I smoke it. Tom is certainly the father of this bastard. Zooks, parson, you remember how he recommended the veather oher to me. Dn un, what a sly bch tis. Ay, ay, as sure as two-pence, Tom is the veather of the bastard. I should be very sorry for that, says the parson. Why sorry, cries the squire: Where is the mighty matter ot? What, I suppose dost pretend that thee hast never got a bastard? Pox! more good lucks thine! for I warrant hast a done a therefore manys the good time and often. Your worship is pleased to be jocular, answered the parson; but I do not only animadvert on the sinfulness of the actionthough that surely is to be greatly deprecatedbut I fear his unrighteousness may injure him with Mr. Allworthy. And truly I must say, though he hath the character of being a little wild, I never saw any harm in the young man; nor can I say I have heard any, save what your worship now mentions. I wish, indeed, he was a little more regular in his responses at church; but altogether he seems Ingenui vultus puer ingenuique pudoris. That is a classical line, young lady; and, being rendered into English, is, a lad of an ingenuous countenance, and of an ingenuous modesty; for this was a virtue in great repute both among the Latins and Greeks. I must say, the young gentleman (for so I think I may call him, notwithstanding his birth) appears to me a very modest, civil lad, and I should be sorry that he should do himself any injury in Squire Allworthys opinion. Poogh! says the squire: Injury, with Allworthy! Why, Allworthy loves a wench himself. Doth not all the country know whose son Tom is? You must talk to another person in that manner. I remember Allworthy at college. I thought, said the parson, he had never been at the university. Yes, yes, he was, says the squire: and many a wench have we two had together. As arrant a whore- master as any within five miles oun. No, no. It will don no harm with he, assure yourself; nor with anybody else. Ask Sophy thereYou have not the worse opinion of a young fellow for getting a bastard, have you, girl? No, no, the women will like un the better fort. This was a cruel question to poor Sophia. She had observed Toms colour change at the parsons story; and that, with his hasty and abrupt departure, gave her sufficient reason to think her fathers suspicion not groundless. Her heart now at once discovered the great secret to her which it had been so long disclosing by little and little; and she found herself highly interested in this matter. In such a situation, her fathers malapert question rushing suddenly upon her, produced some symptoms which might have alarmed a suspicious heart; but, to do the squire justice, that was not his fault. When she rose therefore from her chair, and told him a hint from him was always sufficient to make her withdraw, he suffered her to leave the room, and then with great gravity of countenance remarked, That it was better to see a daughter over-modest than over-forward; a sentiment which was highly applauded by the parson. There now ensued between the squire and the parson a most excellent political discourse, framed out of newspapers and political pamphlets; in which they made a libation of four bottles of wine to the good of their country: and then, the squire being fast asleep, the parson lighted his pipe, mounted his horse, and rode home. When the squire had finished his half-hours nap, he summoned his daughter to her harpsichord; but she begged to be excused that evening, on account of a violent head-ache. This remission was presently granted; for indeed she seldom had occasion to ask him twice, as he loved her with such ardent affection, that, by gratifying her, he commonly conveyed the highest gratification to himself. She was really, what |
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