The Argosy — page 333: what you’re looking at

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

314 Sir Cecil’s Rival. IV. How severe to Sir Cecil Thorpe of all men, was the blow of dis- covering that his idol was only clay, and very coarse clay, it would be impossible to describe. All things became a weariness to him : life had lost its savour. His course alone was clear; he must quit Bniarford, both as unspeakably distasteful as the late scene of his dream of happiness, and a possible meeting-ground at any time with his fair false love. Therefore he set his house in order and set out on uncertain travels; perchance in the varied spectacle and constant change of lie, he might learn to forget. ~ It is curious to note the several cures that different men adopt for the relief of that malady, grief: some think it may be drowned in dissipation, and these, losing it, lose themselves also. Some address themselves to work with all their might and main; and these are right, for work is the great assuager of every evil under the sun. Others again try to outrun their troubles which, though, mostly mount behind, and pursue wherever their victims flee. Of this latter class was Sir Cecil Thorpe. The first refuge that suggested itself to his mind was flight; but if he had entertained any great hopes of re- covery from the regimen, he was disappointed. In actual experi- ence he discovered that classic lake and mountain, and monument of hoary antiquity were as vanities, and but weariness to him, for the persistency with which one fair face kept thrusting itself ever before his vision, wringing his heart with old memories, or pictures of what might have been. At last, after six months’ fruitless wandering, Thorpe felt his steps irresistibly drawn towards home, and one evening when the March winds were blowing high he found himself once more at Briarford. Early next morning he sent for his bailiff and for a week or two occupied himself energetically 1 in looking into various business matters. But it was again the old experience. His former weariness clung to him, and the farming and live stock and county doings, which had before yielded him such pleasure and interest, had become like all else dull, stale and unprofitable. By the end of the month, the whole life was intolerable ; and he resolved to go abroad again, running up in the first instance to town for a few days, and there letting chance deter- mine whither his steps should next’be turned. Upon the morning prior to his departure, Sir Cecil started to look at some cottages in course of erection upon his property. As he stumped along the country road giving a critical glance occasionally, nothwithstanding the broken state of his heart, at his park wall on the one hand and some open land of his on the other, his ear was caught by a peculiar sound. When his attention was first attracted, these sounds were distant but growing instantly nearer—in another minute he recognised the noise as that of a horse tearing along the - highway as fast as hoofs could be laid to the ground; and he had but Gomicbooks.co