| Author: | George Manville Fenn | ISBN: | 9781465621160 |
| Publisher: | Library of Alexandria | Publication: | March 8, 2015 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | George Manville Fenn |
| ISBN: | 9781465621160 |
| Publisher: | Library of Alexandria |
| Publication: | March 8, 2015 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
The week, had passed, and Daniel Barnett had been up to the cottage twice while John Grange lay in the dark. The welcome had been warm enough from James Ellis; Mrs Ellis had been lukewarm and wary. “Ah, well, that will come,” said the young man to himself on the previous evening, after he had received his instructions from the bailiff about the fly to the station, and his duties in taking charge of John Grange, and going up with him to the little private infirmary where he was to stay for a few months if necessary. “Poor chap! I’m sorry for him, but, as I said before, we can’t all win.” The day for John Grange’s departure had come, and he lay back upon a little couch fighting hard to bear his misfortune like a man, and think hopefully of his future. Mrs Mostyn had been to see him four times, and spoke in the most motherly way as she prophesied a successful issue to the journey; but only left him more low-spirited as he thought of Mary and his and her future. The couch was close to the open window, where he could feel the warm sunshine, and old Hannah had left him for a short time alone to go and finish packing his little bag, while Daniel Barnett in his best was waiting to see James Ellis, when he came from the house, receive his final instructions, and then have the fly brought to the garden-door for John Grange. He had quite half-an-hour to wait before Ellis appeared, and on joining him held out his hand. “Good-bye, sir,” said Barnett, “but I shall see you at the bothy. I’ll take great care of the poor fellow.” “I meant to congratulate you, Dan Barnett, our new head-gardener,” said Ellis. “Mrs Mostyn confirms your appointment. Success to you! Now come on to the bothy, and let’s get that poor fellow off. I’ll let him know of it by and by—not for a week or two yet.” But John Grange, as he lay there, was feeling sure that the appointment would be given to Barnett, and he only sighed in a hopeless way, and felt that it was just. And just then he heard a step and pulled himself together. “Come in,” he said, trying to speak cheerily. “No mistaking your fairy footsteps, Tummus. I thought you’d come and say good-bye.” “Aye, and come to the station too, my lad. And I mean to come up to the orspittle once a week, to bring you a bit o’ fruit and a few flowers, if I have to walk.”
The week, had passed, and Daniel Barnett had been up to the cottage twice while John Grange lay in the dark. The welcome had been warm enough from James Ellis; Mrs Ellis had been lukewarm and wary. “Ah, well, that will come,” said the young man to himself on the previous evening, after he had received his instructions from the bailiff about the fly to the station, and his duties in taking charge of John Grange, and going up with him to the little private infirmary where he was to stay for a few months if necessary. “Poor chap! I’m sorry for him, but, as I said before, we can’t all win.” The day for John Grange’s departure had come, and he lay back upon a little couch fighting hard to bear his misfortune like a man, and think hopefully of his future. Mrs Mostyn had been to see him four times, and spoke in the most motherly way as she prophesied a successful issue to the journey; but only left him more low-spirited as he thought of Mary and his and her future. The couch was close to the open window, where he could feel the warm sunshine, and old Hannah had left him for a short time alone to go and finish packing his little bag, while Daniel Barnett in his best was waiting to see James Ellis, when he came from the house, receive his final instructions, and then have the fly brought to the garden-door for John Grange. He had quite half-an-hour to wait before Ellis appeared, and on joining him held out his hand. “Good-bye, sir,” said Barnett, “but I shall see you at the bothy. I’ll take great care of the poor fellow.” “I meant to congratulate you, Dan Barnett, our new head-gardener,” said Ellis. “Mrs Mostyn confirms your appointment. Success to you! Now come on to the bothy, and let’s get that poor fellow off. I’ll let him know of it by and by—not for a week or two yet.” But John Grange, as he lay there, was feeling sure that the appointment would be given to Barnett, and he only sighed in a hopeless way, and felt that it was just. And just then he heard a step and pulled himself together. “Come in,” he said, trying to speak cheerily. “No mistaking your fairy footsteps, Tummus. I thought you’d come and say good-bye.” “Aye, and come to the station too, my lad. And I mean to come up to the orspittle once a week, to bring you a bit o’ fruit and a few flowers, if I have to walk.”
