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Updated: June 28, 2025
He seated himself in her place, and stooped to look at the box. On the inside of the lid was pasted a discoloured piece of paper, and on the paper was written, in a round, laborious hand, the name, "John Bolderfield." "My blazes!" he said slowly, his bloodshot eyes opening wider than ever. "It's old John's money! So yo've been after it, eh?" He turned to her with a grin, one hand on the box.
And Mrs. Moulsey got hers from the Building Society, and Sam Field made shift to go without. And John Bolderfield was three pounds poorer that quarter than he need have been all along of Saunders. And now Saunders was talking "agen him" like this blast him! "Oh, an' then he went on," pursued Bessie with gusto, "about your bein' too ignorant to put it in the post-office.
Saunders slipped it into the lock before him. It moved with ease, backwards and forwards. "H'm! that's strange," he said, taking out the key and turning it over thoughtfully in his hand. "Yer didn't think as there were another key in this 'ouse that would open your cupboard, did yer, Bolderfield?" The old man sank weeping on a chair. He was too broken, too exhausted, to revile Bessie any more.
What troubled him all through the last scene was the thought that now he should never know why she was so set against 'Bessie's 'avin it. It was, indeed, the general opinion in Clinton Magna that John Bolderfield or 'Borrofull, as the village pronounced it, took his sister-in-law's death too lightly. The women especially pronounced him a hard heart.
Many a pleasant evening had he passed chatting with her and Isaac; and whenever they cooked anything good there was always a bite for him. Yes, Bessie had been a good niece to him; and if he trusted any one he dared say he'd trust them. "Well, how's Eliza, Muster Bolderfield?" said a woman who passed him in the village street.
Murch said we wern't to trouble her. She'll go when the light comes most like. She was a little shrivelled woman with a singularly delicate mouth, that quivered as she spoke. John and Eliza Bolderfield had never thought much of her, though she was John's cousin. She was a widow, and greatly 'put upon' both by her children and her neighbours.
"Yes; she said she felt her feet a-gettin' cold, and I must run. But I don't believe she's no worse." John stood looking down, ruefully. Suddenly the figure in the bed turned. "John," said a comparatively strong voice which made Bolderfield start "John, Muster Drew says you'd oughter put it in the bank. You'll be a fool if yer don't, 'ee says."
Now, will yer let us ask yer a question or two?" "I dessay," said Bessie, polishing her cup. "Well, then to begin reg'lar, Mrs. Costrell yo' agree, don't yer, as Muster Bolderfield put his money in your upstairs cupboard?" "I agree as he put his box there" said Bessie, sharply. John broke into inarticulate and abusive clamour. Bessie turned upon him.
You might call Isaac rather a fool, what with his religion, and "extemp'ry prayin', an' that," but all the same Bolderfield thought of him with a kind of uneasy awe. If ever there was a man secure of the next world it was Isaac Costrell.
Many a pleasant evening had he passed chatting with her and Isaac; and whenever they cooked anything good there was always a bite for him. Yes, Bessie had been a good niece to him; and if he trusted any one he dared say he'd trust them. 'Well, how's Eliza, Muster Bolderfield? said a woman who passed him in the village street.
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