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"You know," said Miss Rennie to Miss Thomson, "of the new neighbour you are likely to get at Moss Tower? Mamma wants to have a talk with you about Laura's marriage, as you know the Dalzells." "Oh, yes, certainly, I'll call on your mother. I don't forget any of my cousins, though they are a few times removed.
We were mates at school, and we made up our minds to start out for ourselves. You remember the Dalzells of the Grange, of course?" "I can't say that I do, sir." "Well, they're gone now. Billy's father went the pace, and the mortgagees sold him up; and if his mother hadn't given him a bit when we started, Billy wouldn't have had a penny.
In fact, although I've consented to it, I'm not sure that I have shown the best kind of judgment in the matter." "Oh, I don't want you to urge the Dalzells very hard, dad. I'm not just asking that. But I think, if you talk it over with them, perhaps " "It's a queer bit of business for me," remarked Mr. Prescott. "But will you go, Dad? Please." "Yes," agreed Mr. Prescott very reluctantly.
He was just in time to see Mr. Prescott returning. "You stay here a minute," young Prescott directed, then set off at a run to join his father. "Did you did you " he panted, as he reached his parent. "Yes," replied the head of the family, a bit stiffly. "I made a nuisance of myself over at the Dalzells. I talked and talked. They talked, too, and both Mr. and Mrs.
Not touching the balance of his wits, be it understood; just heartening him no more. Twice and thrice she branched off from the road to show him something that could well have waited for another day. She was imprudent enough to introduce him to so sentimental a spot as the family cemetery established at a time when there were only Dalzells and Pennycuicks to feed it.
It is better to be at the head of the commonalty than dragging in the rear of the gentry, and for substantial comfort, liberal housekeeping, generous almsgiving, and frank hospitality, the farmhouse of Allendale was out and out superior to the mansion of Moss Tower, where the Dalzells had lived for at least two centuries. As Mrs.
Blair was not degenerating consequently he was honestly wretched. His attempts to find something to do were not without humor to his mother, who kept herself informed, of course, of all his "business" ventures. "What! he wants the Dalzells to take him on? What for? Errand-boy? That's all he's good for. But I'm afraid two dollars and a half a week won't buy him many china beetles!"
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