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; that he had married Miss Bragwell entirely for love,
and was sorry to mention so paltry a thing as money, which he
despised, but that his wants were pressing: his landlord, to whom he
was in debt, having been so vulgar as to threaten to send him to
prison. He ended with saying: "I have been obliged to shock your
daughter's delicacy, by confessing my unlucky real name. I believe I
owe part of my success with her, to my having assumed that of
Augustus Frederic Theodosius. She is inconsolable at this
confession, which, as you are now my father, I must also make to
you, and subscribe myself, with many blushes, by the vulgar name of
your dutiful son,
"TIMOTHY INCLE."
"O!" cried the afflicted father, as he tore the letter in a rage,
"Miss Bragwell married to a strolling actor! How shall I bear it?"
"Why, I would not bear it at all," cried the enraged mother; "I
would never see her; I would never forgive her; I would let her
starve at the corner of the barn, while that rascal, with all those
pagan, popish names, was ranting away at the other." "Nay," said
Miss Betsy, "if he is only a shopman, and if his name be really
Timothy Incle, I would never forgive her neither. But who would have
thought it by his looks, and by his _monstrous genteel_ behavior?
no, he never can have so vulgar a name."
"Come, come," said Mr. Worthy, "were he really an honest
haberdasher, I should think there was no other harm done, except the
disobedience of the thing. Mr. Bragwell, this is no time to blame
you, or hardly to reason with you. I feel for you sincerely. I
ought not, perhaps, just at present, to reproach you for the
mistaken manner in which you have bred up your daughters, as your
error has brought its punishment along with it. You now see, because
you now feel, the evil of a false education. It has ruined your
daughter; your whole plan unavoidably led to some such end. The
large sums you spent to qualify them, as you thought, for a high
station, only served to make them despise their own, and could do
them nothing but harm, while your habits of life properly confined
them to company of a lower class. While they were better dressed
than the daughters of the first gentry, they were worse taught as to
real knowledge, than the daughters of your plowmen. Their vanity has
been raised by excessive finery, and kept alive by excessive
flattery. Every evil temper has been fostered by indulgence. Their
pride has never been controlled; t
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