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Updated: June 13, 2025
The streets all around were thronged with people longing for a glimpse of Gladstone. "Well, good-by, Cantercot," said Crowl. "No, I'll see you to the door, Peter." They fought their way shoulder to shoulder. Now that Grodman had found Denzil he was not going to lose him again.
So I waits a bit, but all was still as death. So, softly, softly I draws the curtain, and there, sure enough, I sid before me, stretched out like the painted lady on the tomb-stean in Lexhoe Church, the famous Dame Crowl, of Applewale House. There she was, dressed out. You never sid the like in they days. Satin and silk, and scarlet and green, and gold and pint lace; by Jen! 'twas a sight!
"Leave this dock," said Arden, sternly; "and if I trace any slander to you concerning this lady or myself, I will break every bone in your miserable body." Crowl shrank off amid the jeers of the crowd, but on reaching a safe distance, said, "You will be sorry for this." Arden paid no need to him, for Edith, under Mrs. Groody's treatment, gave signs of returning consciousness.
The poet had brushed the reluctant mud off his garments to the extent it was willing to go, and had washed his face, but his eyes were still bloodshot from the cultivation of the Beautiful. Denzil was accompanying Crowl to the door of the Club out of good fellowship. Denzil was himself accompanied by Grodman, though less obtrusively.
And, more than that, the yield from her vines and orchard was so abundant that she aided Arden to meet the interest of the mortgage on the Lacey place, so that Mr. Crowl could not foreclose that autumn, as he intended.
Such are the effects of a love for the Beautiful. Peter Crowl was impressed with Denzil's condemnation of flippancy, and he hastened to turn off the joke. "I'm quite serious," he said. "Butterflies are no good to nothing or nobody; caterpillars at least save the birds from starving." "Just like your view of things, Peter," said Denzil. "Good morning, madam." This to Mrs.
Newman cast a despairing glance at his small store of fuel, but, not having the courage to say no a word which in all his life he never had said at the right time, either to himself or anyone else gave way to the proposed arrangement. Mr Crowl immediately went about making himself as comfortable, with Newman Nogg's means, as circumstances would admit of his being made.
She has her wages, and I mun mak' her a present, says he, pattin' my shouther wi' his hand. "And he did gimma a goud pound and I went aff to Lexhoe about an hour after, and sa hame by the stage-coach, and fain was I to be at hame again; and I never sid Dame Crowl o' Applewale, God be thanked, either in appearance or in dream, at-efter.
'Me! cried Newman, much astonished. 'Why, it IS a queer hour, isn't it? replied Crowl, who was not best pleased at the prospect of losing his fire; 'and they are queer-looking people, too, all covered with rain and mud. Shall I tell them to go away? 'No, said Newman, rising. 'People? How many? 'Two, rejoined Crowl. 'Want me? By name? asked Newman. 'By name, replied Crowl.
I suppose it was right, but none could think there was much good in it, and sa at lang last she made her flittin', and a' was over, and old Dame Crowl was shrouded and coffined, and Squire Chevenix was wrote for.
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