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The alacrity with which the long lank bending figure stepped to meet him was something unwonted, but the boy himself was downcast and depressed. "I'm afraid you've nothing good to tell." Cecil shook his head, and after some more seconds broke out "It's awful!" "What is?" "Brownlow's pain. I never saw anything like it!" "Rheumatism? If that is from the exposure, I hope it will not last long."
The recollection of former London Sundays, of Mary Ogilvie's quiet protests, and of the effect on her two eldest children, had strengthened Mrs. Brownlow's resolution to make it impossible to fill the afternoon with aimless visiting and gossiping; and plenty of other occupations had sprung up.
They had now reached Mrs. Brownlow's house, and the old lady was delighted to receive them. Of course she began to discuss at once the great news. Sir Thomas had had his arm broken, and was now again a member of Parliament. Mrs. Brownlow was a thorough-going Tory, and was in an ecstasy of delight that her old friend should have been successful.
"You are John Brownlow's little sister, eh?" he added, bending towards her; but as she crept round in terror, still clinging, he addressed the elder one: "I am so glad; I thought I had rushed into a strange house, and should have to beat a retreat."
"I am sure, Colonel Brownlow, nothing can be handsomer than your conduct and Mrs. Brownlow's," said the old man; "but I should not like to take advantage of what she is good enough to say on the spur of the moment, till she has had more time to think it over." Therewith he took leave, while Caroline exclaimed "I always say there is no truer gentleman in the county than old Mr. Gould.
Yet was it the perversity of human nature that made him infinitely more animated and interested in John Brownlow's race and the distressed travellers on the Schwarenbach than he had been since- no one could tell when? Perhaps it was the novelty of being left alone and comparatively unwatched.
'He has not peached so far, said the Jew as he pursued his occupation. 'If he means to blab us among his new friends, we may stop his mouth yet. Oliver soon recovering from the fainting-fit into which Mr. Brownlow's abrupt exclamation had thrown him, the subject of the picture was carefully avoided, both by the old gentleman and Mrs.
Until these were over, things would remain in their present state for how many weeks or months would depend upon the Law Courts, since Mrs. Brownlow's trustees would be legally holders of the property until the decision was given against them, and Miss Menella would be as entirely dependent on her bounty as she had been all these years. Meanwhile, as Mrs.
The meadow lay behind the house, and a gravel walk leading along its shaded border opened into the lane about ten yards from the gate of the Pagoda, as Colonel and Mrs. Brownlow and the post office laboured to call it; the Folly, as came so much more naturally to everyone's lips. It had been the work of the one eccentric man in Mrs. Robert Brownlow's family, and was thus her property.
"A strange girl, that!" said her uncle, as she marched out of the room. "I am glad our Jessie has not her temper!" responded his wife; and then they both repaired to old Mrs. Brownlow's special apartment, the back drawing-room, while Janet quietly dropped downstairs with the key she had taken from her father's table on her way to the consulting-room.
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