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Updated: June 16, 2025
About four o'clock on Saturday afternoon, Mr. Linford Pratt, managing clerk to Messrs. Eldrick & Pascoe, Solicitors, of Barford, who was crossing the grounds of Normandale Grange on his way to a business appointment, discovered the dead body of Mr. H. J. Mallathorpe, the owner of the Normandale Estate, lying in a roadway which at that point is spanned, forty feet above, by a narrow foot-bridge.
Esther Mawson had carefully calculated all her chances as soon as Pratt told her that he was going to be away for a while. She knew that Pratt would not have left Barford for any indefinite period unless something had gone seriously wrong. But she knew more by inference and intuition.
Ralph had written his letter, and had received his answer, and he also was successful and glorious. That fatal day on which the fox would not break from Barford Woods had not yet arrived. Mary Bonner heard the letter read, and listened to Sir Thomas's speech without a word, without a blush, and without a sign.
And, intermingled with all this, came such outrageous threats and expressions of uncontrolled vehemence, that Lois felt that in Barford she must not linger to be a cause of desperate quarrel between father and son, while her absence might soften down matters, so that either the rich old miller might relent, or and her heart ached to think of the other possibility Hugh's love might cool, and the dear play-fellow of her childhood learn to forget.
Dramatist and poet, b. of a good family at Little Barford, Bedfordshire, was bred to the law, but inheriting an income of £300 a year, he devoted himself to literature, and produced several dramas, including The Ambitious Stepmother, The Fair Penitent, and Jane Shore. The last, which is his best, contains some scenes of true pathos, and holds its place.
What would the two trustees have been able to hand over to the Mayor and Corporation of Barford, if the will had been found as soon as John Mallathorpe died? Pratt, from what he remembered of the bulk and calculations at the time, made a rapid estimate. As near as he could reckon, the Mayor and Corporation would have got about L300,000.
But if you walk steadily away from it for five miles inland, along the white chalky road between the downs, you will arrive at the little village of Barford. There is only one road, so you cannot miss your way. Little twisty lanes fretted with sheep-tracks drop down into it now and then from the broad-shouldered downs on either side, but take no notice of them.
At any rate, he must see to himself. One thing was certain no search for Parrawhite must be permitted in Barford. That evening, instead of going home to dinner, Pratt remained in town, and dined at a quiet restaurant.
Collingwood went away with that last intimation warm in his memory. He had an idea that the girl meant what she said and for a moment he was sorry that he was going to India. He might have settled down at Barford there and then, and but at that he laughed at himself. "A young woman with several thousands a year of her own!" he said. "Of course, she'll marry some big pot in the county.
She knew that she could easily find the necessary money Harper Mallathorpe had such a natural dislike of all business matters and was so little fitted to attend to them that he was only too well content to leave everything relating to the estate and the mill at Barford to his mother. Up to that time Mrs.
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