“Consider it arranged,” said Lester, putting his hand on Aram’s arm, and then leaning on it gently, he added, “And now that we are on this subject, let me tell you what I intended as a gift to you, and my dear Madeline; it is but small, but my estates are rigidly entailed on Walter, and of poor value in themselves, and it is half the savings of many years.”
The Squire then named a sum, which, however small it may seem to our reader, was not considered a despicable portion for the daughter of a small country squire at that day, and was in reality, a generous sacrifice for one whose whole income was scarcely, at the most, seven hundred a year. The sum mentioned doubled that now to be lent, and which was of course a part of it; an equal portion was reserved for Ellinor.
“And to tell you the truth,” said the Squire, “you must give me some little time for the remainder—for not thinking some months ago it would be so soon wanted, I laid out eighteen hundred pounds, in the purchase of Winclose Farm, six of which, (the remainder of your share,) I can pay off at the end of the year; the other twelve, Ellinor’s portion, will remain a mortgage on the farm itself. And between us,” added the Squire, “I do hope that I need be in no hurry respecting her, dear girl. When Walter returns, I trust matters may be arranged, in a manner, and through a channel, that would gratify the most cherished wish of my heart. I am convinced that Ellinor is exactly suited to him; and, unless he should lose his senses for some one else in the course of his travels, I trust that he will not be long returned before he will make the same discovery. I think of writing to him very shortly after your marriage, and making him promise, at all events, to revisit us at Christmas. Ah! Eugene, we shall be a happy party, then, I trust. And be assured, that we shall beat up your quarters, and put your hospitality, and Madeline’s housewifery to the test.”
Therewith the good Squire ran on for some minutes in the warmth of his heart, dilating on the fireside prospects before them, and rallying the Student on those secluded habits, which he promised him he should no longer indulge with impunity.
“But it is growing dark,” said he, awakening from the theme which had carried him away, “and by this time Peter and our patrole will be at the hall. I told them to look up in the evening, in order to appoint their several duties and stations—let us turn back. Indeed, Aram, I can assure you, that I, for my own part, have some strong reasons to take precautions against any attack; for besides the old family plate, (though that’s not much,) I have,—you know the bureau in the parlour to the left of the hall—well, I have in that bureau three hundred guineas, which I have not as yet been able to take to safe hands at—, and which, by the way, will be your’s to-morrow. So, you see, it would be no light misfortune to me to be robbed.”
“Hist!” said Aram, stopping short, “I think I heard steps on the other side of the hedge.”
The Squire listened, but heard nothing; the senses of his companion were, however, remarkably acute, more especially that of hearing.
“There is certainly some one; nay, I catch the steps of two persons,” whispered he to Lester. “Let us come round the hedge by the gap below.”
They both quickened their pace, and gaining the other side of the hedge, did indeed perceive two men in carters’ frocks, strolling on towards the village.
“They are strangers too,” said the Squire suspiciously, “not Grassdale men. Humph! could they have overheard us, think you?”