But now he had
twice sinned before the eyes of all Dillsborough, and Runciman
thought that he knew how it would be with a young man in his own
house who got drunk in public to drown his sorrow. "I wouldn't see
Larry go astray and spoil himself with liquor," said the
good-natured publican; "for more than I should like to name." Mr.
Masters promised to take the hint, and rode off on his mission.
The entrance to Chowton Farm and Bragton gate were nearly opposite,
the latter being perhaps a furlong nearer to Dillsborough. The
attorney when he got to the gate stopped a moment and looked up the
avenue with pardonable pride. The great calamity of his life, the
stunning blow which had almost unmanned him when he was young, and
from which he had never quite been able to rouse himself, had been
the loss of the management of the Bragton property. His grandfather
and his father had been powerful at Bragton, and he had been
brought up in the hope of walking in their paths. Then strangers
had come in, and he had been dispossessed. But how was it with him
now? It had almost made a young man of him again when Reginald
Morton, stepping into his office, asked him as a favour to resume
his old task. But what was that in comparison with this later
triumph? His own child was to be made queen of the place! His
grandson, should she be fortunate enough to be the mother of a son,
would be the squire himself! His visits to the place for the last
twenty years had been very rare indeed.
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