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Toller's, the Vicar learned something which made him watch the more eagerly for an opportunity of indirectly letting Lydgate know that if he wanted to open himself about any difficulty there was a friendly ear ready. The opportunity came at Mr. Vincy's, where, on New Year's Day, there was a party, to which Mr.
The result was a complete failure. On the critical day, when Snarley returned from his obstetric duties, his wife saw gloom and disappointment on his countenance. "Well, have them lambs come right?" "Lambs, did you say? They're not lambs. They're young jackasses. It's summat as Shepherd Toller's been up to.
"When?" "Hours ago, sir when you went into Toller's cottage." I troubled my fat friend with no more questions. Returning to the house, and making polite apologies, I discovered one more among Mrs. Roylake's many accomplishments. It made its appearance when I led her to the luncheon table. "Don't let me detain you," my stepmother began. "Won't you give me some luncheon?" I inquired.
Nobody could see me; nobody could despise me I burst out crying. Twice, I looked into Toller's room during the remainder of the night, and found him sleeping. When the sun rose, I could endure the delay no longer. I woke him. "What is it?" he asked peevishly. "You must be the last person who saw Cristel," I answered. "I want to know all that you can tell me."
He opened the portfolio, and counted the loose leaves of writing in it carefully. While he was absorbed in this occupation, old Toller's eccentricity assumed a new form. His little restless black eyes followed the movements of his lodger's fingers, as they turned over leaf after leaf of the manuscript, with such eager curiosity and interest that I looked at him in surprise.
"I have been wandering in your glorious wood, Mr. Roylake. Anything to escape the respectable classes on Sunday, patronizing piety on the way to afternoon church. I must positively make a sketch of the cottage by the mill I mean, of course, the picturesque side of it. That fine girl of Toller's was standing at the door. She is really handsomer than ever. Are you going to see her, you wicked man?
She and Helen must seek situations as servants. Mrs. Mudge and Miss Everard went away at the end of the month. On the dining-room table after they had gone Miss Toller found two envelopes directed to her. Inside were some receipts. Mrs. Mudge had paid all the rent due to the end of Miss Toller's term, and Miss Everard the taxes. Next week Miss Toller had the following letter from her father
No patient will like it certainly not Peacock's, who have been used to depletion. Pass the wine." Mr. Toller's prediction was partly verified. If Mr. and Mrs.
With a lantern in one hand, a can of milk in the other, and a bag of sticks on his back, the old man stumbled through the night until he reached the last slope leading to Toller's hut. Here the lantern was blown out, and Snarley, after depositing his burdens, sat down, dizzy and faint, on a stone.
Toller had awakened into a past which lies beyond the graves of buried races and had joined his fathers in the morning of the world. Towards the end of the summer Toller's health began to decline. He was attacked by fierce paroxysms of internal pain, which left him weak and helpless.
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