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Updated: May 3, 2025
No cares or responsibilities were imposed upon her. The domestic affairs were superintended by a stern housekeeper, who bore a quaint resemblance to Girdlestone himself in petticoats, and who arranged every detail of housekeeping. The young girl had apparently only to exist and to be happy. Yet the latter item was not so easy as it might seem. It was not a congenial atmosphere.
A church stood on one side, and on the other the village inn. The door was open and the light shining through the red curtains of the bar parlour looked warm and cosy. The clink of glasses and the murmur of cheerful voices sounded from within. Kate, as she looked across, felt doubly cheerless and lonely by the contrast. Girdlestone looked too, but with different emotions.
"There is some business to be looked after in Spain," Girdlestone remarked to McPherson. "It came up suddenly or we should have given you notice. It was absolutely necessary that we should be there personally. It was more convenient to go in our own vessel than to wait for a passenger ship." "Where will you sleep, sir?" asked the mate. "I doubt the accommodation's no very munificent."
Indeed, there was an oriental and almost barbarous splendour about the great rooms, where the richest of furniture was interspersed with skins from the Gaboon, hand-worked ivory from Old Calabar, and the thousand other strange valuables which were presented by his agents to the African trader. After the death of his friend, Girdlestone had been as good as his word.
"We are expected and all will be ready for us," said Girdlestone. "Go as fast as you can, for we are cold." The driver cracked his whip, and the horse started at a brisk trot down the dark country road. Looking round her, Kate saw that they were passing through a large country village, consisting of a broad main street, with a few insignificant offshoots branching away on either side.
Some years after Tom heard from a commercial traveller of a melancholy, broken man who haunted the low betting-houses of San Francisco, and who met his death eventually in some drunken fracas. There was much about this desperado which tallied with the description of young Girdlestone, but nothing certain was ever known about the matter.
My wife's brother Andrew left it, sir, and a very handsome legacy too." John Girdlestone smiled with the indulgent smile of one to whom such a sum was absolutely nothing. "What have you done with the money, then, John?" he asked carelessly. "Banked it, sir, in the United Metropolitan." "In the United Metropolitan, John? Let me see. Their present rate of interest is three and a half?"
Ezra is so good to you, and provides you with a country-house and every convenience as 'eart could wish, all you can find to do is to go screamin' about at night, and then talk as if you was a-goin' to be murdered in the day. I really am surprised. There's Mr. Girdlestone a-callin. He'd be shocked, poor gentleman, if he knew how you was abusin' of him."
Sampson was the owner of a fair-sized fishing-boat, which he worked with his eldest son, and which was said to yield him a decent livelihood. "What are you going to do?" asked Girdlestone, as his son made his way to the door. "Don't look like a ghost," Ezra answered in an angry whisper. "We're all safe, if we are only cool." "I am better now. You can trust me."
Burt was standing over the body, his bludgeon in his hand. "Not even a groan!" he said. "What d'ye think of that?" Girdlestone wrung his hand and congratulated him warmly. "Shall I light the lantern?" he asked. "For God's sake, don't!" Ezra said earnestly. "I had no idea that you were so faint-hearted, my son," the merchant remarked.
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