The Argosy — page 367: what you’re looking at

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

The Syllabub Feast. 353 *‘Good speed to you both,” returned Duffham. “Take care of those horses. ‘They are fresh.” | Tod gently touched the two with the whip, and called back a saucy word. He particularly resented any reflection on his driving. A year went by. We were at home for the Michaelmas holidays again, And, who should chance to call at the manor the very day of our arrival, but old Westerbrook. Changes had taken place at the N. D. Farm. MHavé you ever observed that when our whole heart is set upon a thing, our entire aims and actions are directed to bring it about, it is all quietly frustrated by that Finger of Fate that none of us, whether prince or peasant, can resist? Mrs. Westerbrook had been doing her best to move heaven and earth to encompass the deposition of Fred Westerbrook for her Own succession, and behold she could not. Just as she had contrived that Fred should be crushed, and she herself put into old Westerbrook’s will in his place, as the inheritor of the N. D. Farm and all its belong- ings, Heaven rendered her work nugatory by taking her to itself. Yes, Mrs. Westerbrook was dead. She was carried off after a rather short illness: and Mr. Westerbrook was a widower, bereaved and solitary. He was better off without her. The home was ten times more peace- ful. He felt ¢4a¢#: but he felt it to be very lonely ; and he more than once caught himself wishing Fred was back again. Which of course meant that he had never gone away, and never turned out tobe a scamp. Gisby did not die. Gisby had recovered in process of time, and was now more active on the farm than ever. Rather too active, its _ master was beginning dimly to suspect. Gisby seemed to haunt him. Gisby assumed more power than was at all needful ; and Gisby never ceased to pour into Mr. Westerbrook’s ear reiterations of Fred's base iniquity. Altogether, Mr. Westerbrook was growing a bit tired of Gisby. He had taken to put him down with sharp curtness; and once, when Gisby ventured to hint that it might be a convenient arrangement if he took up his abode in the house, Mr. Westerbrook swore at him. As to Fred, he was still popularly looked upon as cousin-german to the fiend incarnate. Nothing had been heard of him. Nothing of any kind since that " moonlight night when he had made his escape. Tod and I, waiting for news from him so long, and waiting in vain, had at last made up our minds that nothing more ever would be heard of him in this world. In short, that he had slipped out of it. Perhaps been starved out of it. Starved to death. Well, Mr. Westerbrook called at the Manor within an hour of our getting home for Michaelmas, just twelve months after the uproar. To me, he looked to be a good deal changed: his manner was quiet and subdued, almost as though he no longer took much interest in life ; VOL. XIX. Z CORnniclooolkks