The Congo Rovers | Page 9

dreadful. A fault confessed is half atoned. And, apart from the morality of the thing, let me tell you that a reputation for truthfulness is a priceless possession to a man; it makes his services doubly valuable.
"Be careful that you are always strictly honest, honourable, and upright in your dealings with others. Never let your reputation in this respect be sullied by so much as a breath. And bear this in mind, my boy, it is not sufficient that you should be all this, you must also seem it, that is to say you must keep yourself far beyond the reach of even the barest suspicion. Many a man who, by carelessness or inexperience, has placed himself in a questionable position, has been obliged to pay the penalty of his want of caution by carrying about with him, to the end of his life, the burden of a false and undeserved suspicion.
"And now there is only one thing more I wish to caution you against, and that is vanity. It is a failing which is only too plainly perceptible in most boys of your age, and--do not be angry, Dick, if I touch the sore spot with a heavy hand; it is for your own good that I do it--you have it in a very marked degree. Like most of your compeers you think that, having passed your fourteenth birth-day, you are now a man, and in many points I notice that you have already begun to ape the ways of men. Don't do it, Dick. Manhood comes not so early; and of all disagreeable and objectionable characters, save me, I pray you, from a boy who mistakes himself for a man. Manhood, with its countless cares and responsibilities, will come soon enough; whilst you are a boy be a boy; or, if you insist on being a man before your time, cultivate those attributes which are characteristic of true manhood, such as fearless truth, scrupulous honour, dauntless courage, and so on; but don't, for Heaven's sake, adopt the follies and vices of men. As I have said, Dick, vanity is certainly your great weakness, and I want you to be especially on your guard against it. It will tempt you to tamper with the truth, even if it does no worse," (I thought involuntarily of Lady Mary and my tacit admission of the justice of Lord Fitz-Johnes' impeachment of me with regard to her), "and it is quite possible that it may lead you into a serious scrape.
"Now, Dick, my boy--my dear son--I have said to you all that I think, even in the slightest degree, necessary by way of caution and advice. I can only affectionately entreat you to remember and ponder upon my words, and pray God to lead you to a right understanding of them.
"And now," he added, rising from his seat, "I think it is time you were on the move. Go and wish Eva good-bye, and then I will drive you down to the Hard--I see Edwards has brought round the carriage."
I hurried away to the drawing-room, where I knew I should find my sister, and, opening the door gently, announced that I had come to say good-bye. The dear girl, upon hearing my voice, rose up from the sofa, in the cushion of which she had been hiding her tear-stained face, and came with unsteady steps toward me. Then, as I looked into her eyes-- heavy with the mental agony from which she was suffering, and which she bravely strove to hide for my sake--I realised, for the first time in my life, all the horror which lurks in that dreadful word "Farewell." Meaning originally a benediction, it has become by usage the word with which we cut ourselves asunder from all that is nearest and dearest to us; it is the signal for parting; the last word we address to our loved ones; the fatal spell at which they lingeringly and unwillingly withdraw from our clinging embrace; the utterance at which the hand-clasp of friendship or of love is loosed, and we are torn apart never perhaps again to meet until time shall be no more.
My poor sister! It was pitiful to witness her intense distress. This was our first parting. Never before had we been separated for more than an hour or two at a time, and, there being only the two of us, our mutual affection had steadily, though imperceptibly, grown and strengthened from year to year until now, when to say "good-bye" seemed like the rending of our heart-strings asunder.
It had to be said, however, and it was said at last--God knows how, for my recollection of our parting moments is nothing more than that of a brief period of acute mental suffering--and then, placing my half- swooning sister