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Updated: June 2, 2025
Woodburn would probably have arrived in the afternoon, and would have arranged with Swallow for a consultation in which Mr. Grey would be expected to take part. It was plain that he really must talk to the Captain. He rose and went slowly down the avenue. A half-hour in Westways singularly relieved him. Swallow was not at home, and Josiah, the cause of Mr.
Then he concluded that first it would be well without committing himself to know more surely how far this Democratic community would go in support of the fugitive-slave law. He applauded his cautiousness. A moment later Pole, well shaven, overtook him. Grey stopped him, chatted as they went on, and at last asked if there was in Westways a good Democratic lawyer. Pole was confident that Mr.
He was careful and penurious, but failing of success in Philadelphia returned to Westways when about thirty years old, bought a piece of land in the town, built a house, married a pretty, commonplace young woman, and began to look for business. There was little to be had. The Squire drew his own leases and sold lands to farmers unaided.
Penhallow saw that he was well supplied and gave no further thought to the incorrigible and changeful political views of Westways. The excitement over the flight of Josiah lessened, and Westways settled down to the ordinary dull routine of a little community dependent on small farmers and the mill-men who boarded at the old tavern or with some of the townspeople.
In the morning he was asked by his wife to go with her to the village; she wanted some advice. He did not ask what, but said, "Of course. I am to try the barber's assistant I have brought from the mills to shave me, and what is more important Westways. I have put him in our poor old Josiah's shop."
McGregor nodded approval, but wondered why at last the Squire's unfailing good-nature had struck for higher wages of virtue in the man he had ruined by kindness. "I try to keep work in Westways," said Penhallow. "Joe Shall roof the chapel, and like as not Peter will be too drunk to help. I can't quite make it a condition with Joe that he shall not employ Peter, but I should like to."
There were other apples, with and without money; and so with fun and merriment the sale went on to Westways' satisfaction. "What's this," said John, with an unpleasant shock of annoyance as he uncovered the Colonel's war-worn uniform. He hesitated, looking towards his uncle who seemed bewildered. "That's that rascal, Billy it's a mistake," exclaimed the Colonel.
"No, sir, and I will take Mr. Grey to ride to-morrow." "Do, and send him home too tired to talk politics." "I think if I put him on uncle's big John it will answer." While the two maids from Westways waited on the family at breakfast, the guest was pleased to express himself favourably in regard to the coffee and the corn bread.
But I must leave you. I am going to see that scamp misnamed Lamb. See you at dinner. Don't cultivate lonesomeness, John. No one is ever really alone." Leaving his pupil to consider what John thought rather too much of an enigma, the young clergyman took to the dusty highway which led to Westways.
He rode away laughing as he reflected on what share of Pole's debt he was to devour. The bustle and folly of a rummage-sale was once in every two or three years a frolic altogether pleasant to quiet Westways. It enabled Ann Penhallow and other wise women to get rid of worn-out garments and other trash dear to the male mind.
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