He did not like the doctor’s manner; he did not like his looks, or indeed the man himself.
Anyway he deemed it expedient not to be in too great a hurry to oblige his patron, about whom he was desirous of learning a little more.
Rawton’s elopement and marriage with Hester Teige was a sort of boy-and-girl attachment, which was in reality but little more than a nine days’ wonder. Both the contracting parties found out their mistake, and it is likely enough that the gipsy was as glad to be rid of his bargain as she was to leave him.
Hester Teige was a beauty. In addition to her personal charms, which were of no mean order, she had grace, and an air of refinement which went far to commend her to persons in the higher walks of life.
The history of this fair but frail woman would fill a volume.
She had passed through various phases of life—had been the pet and idol of some of England’s proudest aristocracy.
Then when the sunny days of her youth had passed away she was left to the tender mercies of one who ruled her with a rod of iron.
As far as Bandy-legged Bill was concerned he had altogether forgotten the young and attractive girl whom he imprudently chose to marry. The only wonder was how such an ill-assorted match could ever have taken place, or how any well-educated young woman could have ever consented to be led to the altar by such a commonplace personage as our friend the gipsy. But so it was.
Bill had certainly one quality to recommend him—he was brim full of good nature, and was at this time one of the best tempered fellows out. He was good-natured enough to resign his wife to better hands, and after this had taken place he never afterwards interfered with her.
The gipsy husbanded his resources as carefully as possible. He could make a small sum go a long way when it suited his purpose, and the sovereign he had received from Bourne would last him some little time; besides, the chances were that a farther advance would be made when that was gone.