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Updated: June 16, 2025
There wasn't such a lot maybe a hundred volumes altogether but I wanted what there was. And as they were of no interest to them, they sold 'em. That's some months ago. I put all the books in a corner and I never really examined them until this very afternoon. Then by this afternoon's post I got a letter from a Barford man who's now out in America.
At half-past two the carriage and its two fine bay horses came round from the stables; a minute or two later Nesta Mallathorpe emerged from the hall; yet another minute and the carriage was whirling down the park in the direction of Barford. And then Esther moved from the window, picked up the umbrella, the cloak, the gloves, and went off in the direction of the room wherein she had left Pratt.
A week or two after the news of Michael's proved innocence had convulsed Hampshire, and before Michael and Wentworth had returned to Barford, Aunt Aggie might have been seen on a fine May afternoon walking slowly towards "The Towers." She had let her cottage at Saundersfoot for an unusually long period, and was marking time with the Blores.
"But you haven't heard that your mother came to see me at my rooms here in Barford my lodgings the very next night! On the same business, of course. But she did I know how she came, too. Secretly heavily veiled naturally, she didn't want anybody to know. Are you beginning to see something in it, Miss Mallathorpe?" "Go on with your story," answered Nesta.
Now it came to pass that about half a century or longer ago, the Pembroke of that time made the happy discovery, as he imagined, that there was nothing to show that the Barford people had any right to the dead wood. They had been graciously allowed to take it, as was the case all over the country at that time, and that was all.
She saw the path, not a hundred yards long, from the parsonage to the vestry door: that path which her father trod daily; for the vestry was his study, and the sanctum, where he pored over the ponderous tomes of the Father, and compared their precepts with those of the authorities of the Anglican Church of that day the day of the later Stuarts; for Barford Parsonage at that time scarcely exceeded in size and dignity the cottages by which it was surrounded: it only contained three rooms on a floor, and was but two stories high.
"Never mind," continued Parrawhite. "He had some suspicion or he wouldn't have gone out there almost as soon as he reached Barford after his grandfather's death. And even if suspicion is put to sleep for awhile, it can easily be reawakened, so cash! We must profit at once before any future risk arises. But what terms were you thinking of?"
Mallathorpe at that particular time? He suddenly turned to Nesta. "What do you wish me to do?" he asked. "Will you speak to Mr. Eldrick?" she said. "Tell him that his clerk must not call upon, or attempt to see, my mother. I will not have it!" Collingwood went off to Barford, and straight to Eldrick's office.
John Mallathorpe, who was killed?" asked Collingwood, who was fully acquainted with the chimney accident. "Yes, sir, Mr. Bartle bought a lot of books that Mr. Mallathorpe had at the Mill local books. They're there in that corner: they were put there when I fetched them, and he'd never looked over them since, particularly." "Well and this History of Barford? You reminded him of it?"
You may think it odd that I wanted to know what he'd written about, but as it was certainly the last letter he wrote " "Oh, I'm quite sure it must have been that!" exclaimed Mrs. Mallathorpe. "And as I am going into Barford this afternoon, in any case, I meant to call at Mr. Bartle's. I'm sorry to hear of his death, poor old gentleman! But he was very old indeed, wasn't he?"
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