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Updated: May 13, 2025
For six years he turned up the earth of Wiltshire, and read books for the sake of his mind, and talked to gentlemen for the sake of their patois, and each year he rode to Cadover to take off his hat to Mrs. Elliot, and, perhaps, to speak to her about the crops. Mr.
Lewin had warned her that Cadover was an extraordinary place, and that one must never be astonished at anything. A shepherd in the drawing-room! No harm. Still one ought to know whether it was a shepherd or not. At all events he was in gentleman's clothing.
Slightly irritated, she ordered him to close the window. Cadover was not a large house. But it is the largest house with which this story has dealings, and must always be thought of with respect. It was built about the year 1800, and favoured the architecture of ancient Rome chiefly by means of five lank pilasters, which stretched from the top of it to the bottom.
There was time to raise him up and push him into safety. It is also a man's duty to save his own life, and therefore he tried. The train went over his knees. He died up in Cadover, whispering, "You have been right," to Mrs. Failing. She wrote of him to Mrs.
Nor could he guess how much it meant to her that he should enter her presence smoking. Had she not said once at Cadover, "Oh, please smoke; I love the smell of a pipe"? "Would you sit down? Exactly there, please." She placed him at a large table, opposite an inkpot and a pad of blotting-paper. "Will you tell your 'tremendous news' to me? My brother and my husband are giving the boys their dinner."
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