The Freemason's Daughter: A Novel — page 199: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

192 THE FREEMASONS DAUGHTER. tion of calling on the widow Bentley, where her husband was frequently in the habit of visiting, in the hope— the very faint hope—of hearing something of him. ‘<Sit down,” exclaimed the kind-hearted widow, who was preparing the children’s breakfast, to send them to school. ‘* Sit thee down, and don’t thee take on so. Tim will be back again, [’ll warrant: who could hurt a hair of his head? Isn’t he always ready to help a neighbour? I can feel for thee, for I’ve had troubles enough of my own: there’s poor old Mr. Gridley, the best lodger I ever had, gone mad—they ha’ taken him up to Crab’s ’sylum, and won’t even let me see ’un— poor old man !”’ “Ay, there it is,” replied Meg; ‘that’s the cause of all of it—it’s all about them papers—I’m sure it 18.” ‘“<'What papers ?” Her visitor then related to the astonished Mrs. Bentley the history of the letters which the old clerk had entrusted to her husband’s keeping, and how she had been cajoled out of them by Marjoram, by the offer of ten sovereigns. “ Well, well!” exclarmed her astonished listener ; ; “that is curious. I thought Squire Grindem looked uncommon queer when he came to take him away to Crab’s. Do you know,” she added, “it’s my belief that Gridley is no more mad nor I am.” “ ‘You are wrong, there, then,” said little Lizzy, the keeper’s daughter, who entered the house just as the COniiclooecl SS (SO