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A few of us bet five to one you wouldn't stick it a month; but here you are. Only I can tell you this, Ray: you're wilting under it. You're not half the man you were. You're getting beastly thin looking a worm in fact." Raymond laughed. "I'm all right. Plenty of time to make up for lost time." "It's metal more attractive, I believe," hazarded Motyer.
"It's hid in the future, sir," he answered. A comedian, who was going to perform at the smoking concert, came in with Mr. Gurd, and the innkeeper introduced him to Neddy and Raymond. He joined them and added an element of great hilarity to the meal. He abounded in good stories, and understood horse-racing as well as Neddy Motyer himself.
He was glad to see Raymond. "Good," he said. "I thought you were putting in a blameless evening with your people." "No, I'm putting in a blameless evening here." "He's playing enormous billiards, Waldron," declared Motyer. "I suppose you've been keeping him at it. He's come on miles." "He didn't learn with me, anyway. It's not once in a blue moon that he plays at North Hill.
It looked hard, outrageous, wrong, that tastes so sane and simple as his own, could not be gratified. A horseman descended the hill and Raymond recognised him. It was Neddy Motyer. His horse was lame and he walked beside it. Raymond smiled to himself, for Neddy, though a zealous follower of hounds, lacked judgment and often met with disaster. Ten minutes later Neddy himself appeared.
Gurd, of 'The Tiger, and he's told her that Mr. Raymond is there half his time. He's all for sport and such like, and 'The Tiger's' a very sporting house." "He won't be no good to the mills if he's that sort," prophesied Sally Groves. "I saw him once, with another young fellow called Motyer," answered Sarah Northover. "He's very good-looking fair and curly quite different from Mr. Daniel."
The young men wasted an hour in futile talk and needless drinking while Gurd attended to other customers. Then Raymond Ironsyde accepted an invitation to return home with Motyer, who lived at Eype, a mile away. "I'm going to give my people a rest to-day," said Raymond as he departed. "I shall come in here for dinner, Dick." "Very good, sir," answered Mr.
It rests them, but it puts the batsman's eye out." "Seeing how short of practice you are this year, you were jolly steady, Ray," declared Neddy Motyer, who sat on the other side of Ironsyde. "You stopped some very hot ones." Neddy preserved his old interest in sport, but was now a responsible member of society. He had married and joined his father, a harness-maker, in a prosperous business.
Motyer, held the incident a joke; one only possessed imagination sufficient to guess what these public events must mean to the father of Abel. Indeed, Estelle certainly suffered more for Raymond than he suffered for himself. She pictured poignantly his secret thoughts and sorrows at this challenge, and she could guess what it must be to have a child who hated you.
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