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Memory sometimes acts like an old flint-gun: it hangs fire, yet ends by going off. While Dr. Amboyne was driving home, the swarthy, but handsome, features of the workman he had befriended seemed to enter his mind more deeply than during the hurry, and he said to himself, "Jet black hair; great black eyes; and olive skin; they are rare in these parts; and, somehow, they remind me a little of HER."
Amboyne: that made her look a little anxious. "One question, dear: now the Union has beaten you, they will not be so spiteful, will they?" "Oh, no. That is all over. The conquerors can afford to be good-natured. Confound them!" "Then that is all I care about. Then do not leave Hillsborough. Why should you? Wait here patiently. You do not know what may turn up."
Then he remembered something that had fallen from Dr. Amboyne; and he turned to Grotait. Grotait hesitated for once. In his heart he went with the file-cutter: but his understanding encumbered him. "Starvation," said he, "is as miserable a death as poisoning. But why make a large question out of a small one, with rushing into generalities? I really think you might let Mr.
Amboyne, a rising physician, and a man of good family, who loved her sincerely, and had shown his love plainly before ever Mr. Little was heard of. Edith tried to soften her brother; but he was resolute, and said Raby Hall should never be an appendage to a workshop.
By this machine two men can easily grind as many big saws as twenty men could grind on single stones: and instead of all that heavy, coarse labor, and dirt, and splashing, my two men shall do the work as quietly and as easily as two printers, one feeding a machine with paper, and his mate drawing out the printed sheet at the other end." "By Jove," said Dr. Amboyne, "I believe this is a great idea.
As if the poor thing could tell whether she was drawing machine-made bricks, or hand-made bricks! The incident is painful to relate; but it would be unjust to omit it. It was characteristic of that particular Union; and, indeed, without it my reader could not possibly appreciate the brickmaking mind. Bolt went off with this to Little; but Amboyne was there, and cut his tales short.
But somehow the mysterious things that had preceded made the guests look with half-suspicious eyes into every thing; and Coventry's manifest discomfiture, when Dr. Amboyne was sent for, justified this vague sense that there was something strange going on beneath the surface. Neither Raby nor Amboyne came down again, and Mr.
"Are that couple really married, sir?" said he. The curate looked amazed. "As fast as I can make them," said he, rather flippantly. "Excuse me," said the doctor, faintly. "It was a foolish question to ask." "I think I have the honor of speaking to Dr. Amboyne?" Dr. Amboyne bowed mechanically. "You will be at the wedding-breakfast, of course?" "Humph!" "Why, surely, you are invited?"
They had been for many years governed by Grotait, than whom no man in England saw clearer; though such men as Amboyne saw further.
In this same letter he told her he was glad to hear she was renewing her youth like an eagle, but reminded her it would entail some consequences more agreeable to him than to her. She laid down the letter with a blush and fell into a reverie. Dr. Amboyne followed up this letter with a visit or two, and urged her to keep her promise and marry him.
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