The Argosy — page 96: what you’re looking at

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

&4 The Master of Greylands. There he had remained. He liked the climate; he liked the French mode of life ; he liked the business he had engaged in. Not once had he revisited England. He was by nature a most obstinate man, re- taining anger for ever, and he would not give token of remembrance to the father and brothers who, in his opinion, had been too glad to get rid of him. Nodoubt they had. But, though he did not allow them to hear of him, he heard occasionally ofthem. An old acquaint- ance of his, who was thé son of one Squire Dobie, living some few miles on the other side Stilborough, wrote to him every two years, or so, and gave him news. But this correspondence (if letters wntten only on one side could be called such, for all George Dobie ever re- ceived back was a newspaper, sent in token that his letter had reached its destination) was carried on en cachette ; and George Dobie never disclosed it to living mortal, having undertaken not to do so. Some two years before the present period, George Dobie had died: his. let- ters of course ceased, and it was by the merest accident that Basil Castlemaine heard of the death of his father. He was then himselt too ill to return and put in his claim to Greylands’ Rest; in fact, he was near to death ; but he charged his son to go to England and claim the estate as soon as he should be no more ; nay, as he said, to enter into possession of it. But he made use of a peculiar warning in giving this charge to his son ; and these were the words: ‘Take you care what you are about, Anthony, and go to work cautiously. There may be treachery in store for you. The brothers —your uncles—-who combined to drive me away from our homestead in days gone by, may combine again to keep you out of it. Take care of yourself, I say; feel your way, as it were; and beware of treachery.” Whether, as is supposed sometimes to be the case, the dying man had some prevision of the future, and saw, as by instinct, what it would bring forth, certain it was, that he made use of this warning to young Anthony: and equally certain that the end bore out the necessity for the caution. So here was Anthony Castlemaine. Arrived in the land of his family to put in his claim to what he deemed was his lawful inheritance, Greylands’ Rest, the deep black band worn for his father yet fresh upon his hat. Mrs. Castlemaine sat in the red parlour, reading a letter. Or, rather re-reading it, for it was one that had arrived earlier in the morning. A lady at Stilborough had applied for the vacant place of governess to Miss Flora Castlemaine, and had enclosed her testimonials. “ Good music, singing, drawing ; no French,” read Mrs. Castlemaine aloud, partly for the benefit of Miss Flora, who stood by on a stool, not at all pleased that any such application should: come; for; as we have already seen, the young lady would prefer to bring herself y , young icy P bring Herself. (C(O) —_) |