"The most sensible thing he could do under the circumstances, I suppose," said John. "And what followed?"
"Why, Richard offered to forgive him his rent—the rector did the same about his tithes—and to let him remain for a time in the house, which isn't much of a place, you know, and to keep his household furniture, which isn't any better, if he would give up possession of the farm at once, which he was glad enough to do."
"Who has the farm, then?"
"Oh, Matthew Wilson, of course, Mark's brother. He has had half a promise of it a good while, supposing Mark should have to leave. And it was only fair that Matthew should get it, if he can make anything out of it, for by all accounts, he has lost a good bit of money by that sottish brother of his."
"Ah!" ejaculated John, mentally. "To be sure. I heard something of this that evening of the picnic." He did not say this, however, but substituted for it, "And what will the poor man do now he has no farm to attend to?"
"Not to attend to, you mean. Well, his brother has promised to employ him on the farm, if the stupid fellow will work; and, at any rate, to take some care of Mrs. Mark and the daughter. But it will be hard lines with them all, for Matthew Wilson is rather a sharp hand, and there isn't much love lost between any of them, I expect."
"A good thing for Miss Sarah that she is engaged to be married. I am glad to think that she will escape from this state of pauperism, at all events," said John, thoughtfully.
"Ah! But there's something else I have to tell you, Tincroft. That affair is all broken off. She and her cousin have had a quarrel, and there is an end to that connection."
"Do you really mean that, Grigson?" demanded John, visibly startled.
"I do mean it; and I reckon that's why Matthew is more willing than he would have been to lend the wife and Sarah a helping hand. Depend on it, he would have had nothing to say to them if Walter Wilson had gone on with his courtship."