"Are their cares the lighter in consequence?" I demanded.
"That is the question," he replied. "For myself, I think not. They
grow gray the sooner. They have fewer tasks, but heavier troubles.
They live better in some respects. They have luxuries which, in
my day, youth were scarcely permitted to enjoy; and which, indeed,
were not often enjoyed by age. But they have little peace:-and,
look at the bankruptcies of our city. They are without number--they
produce no shame--do not seem to affect the credit of the parties;
and, certainly, in no respect diminish their expenditures. They live
as if the present day were the last they had to live; and living
thus, they must live dishonestly. It is inevitable. The moral sense
is certainly in a much lower condition in our country, than I have
ever known it. What can be the reason?"
"The facility of procuring money, perhaps. Money is the most
dangerous of human possessions."
"There can be none other. Clifford!"
"Sir."
"I change the subject abruptly. Have you seen my son lately,
Clifford?"
The question was solemnly, suddenly spoken. It staggered me. What
could it mean? That there was a meaning in it--a deep meaning--was
unquestionable. But of what nature? Did the venerable man suspect
my secret--could he by any chance conjecture my purpose? It is
one quality of a mind not exactly satisfied of the propriety of
its proceedings, to be suspicious of all things and persons--to
fancy that the consciousness which distresses itself, is also the
consciousness of its neighbors. Hence the blush upon the cheek--the
faltering accents--the tremulousncss of limb, and feebleness of
movement. For a moment after the old man spoke--troubled with this
consciousness, I could not answer. But my self-esteem came to my
relief--nay, it had sufficed to conceal my disquiet. My looks were
subdued to a seeming calm--my voice was un-broken, while I answered:-"I have seen him within a few days, sir--a few nights ago we were
at Mrs. Delaney's party. But why the question, sir?--what troubles
you?"
"Strange that you have not seen! Did you not remark the alteration
in his appearance?"
"I must confess, sir, I did not; but, perhaps, I did not remark
him closely among the crowd."
"He is altered--terribly altered, Clifford. It is very strange that
you have not seen it. It is visible to myself--his mother--all the
family, and some of its friends We tremble for his life. He is a
mere skeleton--moves without life or animation, feebly--his cheeks
are pale and thin, his lips white, and his eyes have an appearance
which, beyond anything besides, distresses me--either lifelessly
dull, or suddenly flushed up with an expression of wildness, which
occurs so suddenly as to distress us with the worst apprehensions
of his sanity."
"Indeed, sir!" I exclaimed with natural surprise.