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Updated: June 25, 2025
Tom dragged Tardrew up it after him. "Thank 'ee, sir," but nothing more. The two had not met since the cholera. Trebooze fell, and lay rolling, trying in vain to shield his face from the phantom wasps. They lifted him up, and spoke gently to him. "Better get home to Mrs. Trebooze, sir," said Tardrew, with as much tenderness as his gruff voice could convey. "Yes, home! home to Molly!
Miss Tardrew! Miss Tardrew!" "Screaming will only make you ill, too, Miss. Where is Miss Tardrew?" "In the surgery, and my mother!" "I expected this," said Tom. "The old man will go next." He went into the surgery. The poor girl was in collapse already. Mrs. Heale was lying on the sofa, stricken. The old man hanging over her, brandy bottle in hand.
Elsley was going to say something in return; but his guest turned the conversation as fast as he could. "And now, I know you want to be busy, though you are too civil to confess it; and I must be with that old fool Tardrew at ten, to settle accounts: he'll scold me if I do not the precise old pedant just as if I was his own child. Good-bye."
"And so do some others," said Tardrew in a gruff tone, as if half to himself, "who have no fancies.... Tell you what it is, sir: you was right this time; and that's plain truth. I'm sorry to hear talk of your going." "My good sir," quoth Tom, "I shall be very sorry to go. I have found place and people here as pleasant as man could wish: but go I must."
"Will he mend, sir?" asks Tardrew. "Of course, he will: and perhaps in more ways than one. Best thing that could have happened will bring him to his senses, and he'll start fresh." "We'll hope so, he's been mad, I think, ever since he heard of that cholera." "So have others: but not with brandy," thought Tom: but he said nothing. "I say, sir," quoth Tardrew, after a while, "how's Parson Headley?"
But Valencia all but commanded him; so he went: and, behold his return was a triumph. All was understood now, all forgiven, all forgotten, save his conduct in the cholera, by the loving, honest, brave West-country hearts; and when the new-married pair were rung into the town, amid arches and garlands, flags and bonfires, the first man to welcome Frank into his rectory was old Tardrew.
"Glad you're satisfied, sir; wish you was going to stay," says Tardrew. "Seen Miss Harvey this last day or two, sir?" "Yes. You know she's to keep her school?" "I know it. Nursed my girl like an angel." "Like what she is," said Tom. "You said one true word once: that she was too good for us." "For this world," said Tom; and fell into a great musing.
His usual lazy drawl is exchanged for foolish excitement. Two or three more gentlemen, tired of Trebooze's absurdities, are scrambling over the rocks above, in search of spraints. Old Tardrew waddles stooping along the line where grass and shingle meet, his bulldog visage bent to his very knees. "Tardrew out hunting?" says Campbell. "Why, it is but a week since his daughter was buried!"
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