Why had she
tempted him to thoughts of happiness and success by that promise of
two months' grace? He supposed that he was not good enough;--or
that she thought he was not good enough. Then he remembered his
acres, and his material comforts, and tried to console himself by
reflecting that Mary Masters might very well do worse in the world.
But there was no consolation in it. He had tried his best because
he had really loved the girl. He had failed, and all the world,--
all his world, would know that he had failed. There was not a man
in the club,--hardly a man in the hunt,--who was not aware that he
had offered to Mary Masters. During the last two months he had not
been so reticent as was prudent, and had almost boasted to Fred
Botsey of success. And then how was he to live at Chowton Farm
without Mary Masters as his wife? As he returned home he almost
made up his mind that he would not continue to live at Chowton
Farm.
He came back through Dillsborough Wood; and there, prowling about,
he met Goarly. "Well, Mr. Twentyman," said the man, "I am making it
all straight now with his Lordship."
"I don't care what you're doing," said Larry in his misery. "You
are an infernal blackguard and that's the best of you."
CHAPTER VIII
Chowton Farm for Sale.
John Morton had returned to town soon after his walk into
Dillsborough and had there learned from different sources that both
Arabella Trefoil and Lord Rufford had gone or were going to
Mistletoe.
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