“Now,” said he, “I can die in peace. The result of my shameful neglect you will undo, and repair the consequences of my selfish indifference.”
Philip prayed with him; he and Lucy bade him good-bye, and in a few days the old man passed away, rejoicing in the sure and certain hope of eternal life. When his will came to be read it was discovered that Kasper Crabtree had left all he possessed, absolutely and without condition, to Lucy Fuller, “in grateful acknowledgment,” said the will, “of my eternal debt of gratitude to her, and in full confidence that it will be well employed for the good of those I have too much neglected, and for the glory of God.”
The reformation of Midden Harbour was a congenial task to Philip and his wife. One after the other the old ricketty cottages were pulled down and others built, healthy, comfortable, and commodious. The place was effectively drained, gardens were laid out, an abundance of trees and shrubs were planted, the pathways were paved, and the whole appearance of the place was so thoroughly revolutionised as to have lost its identity. The inhabitants, most of whom were members of the Methodist society, drew up a round robin, and presented it to their new landlord, with a unanimous request that the old name, once sufficiently descriptive of its unsavoury condition, should be changed for some other which should be more in harmony with the new and happy condition of things. It was some time before its youthful owners could hit upon a satisfactory title; at last they decided to call it Kasper Grove, and so to hand down to posterity the name of the old man to whom it was indebted for its transformation. Midden Harbour was defunct, swept out of existence, but Kasper Grove continues to this day, and holds a place among the lions of Nestleton quite as attractive as the ancient abbey or Saint Madge’s Well.
My story now draws nigh to a conclusion, but I must give my readers just a final glimpse at the principal actors in the village history I have tried to chronicle.
Nathan Blyth transferred his business to a son of Jabez Hepton, who had been taught his handicraft by Nathan himself, and was said to possess much of the skill and cunning for which his master had long been famous, and which had brought so much of profit, that in Nathan’s prudent hands, it had made him independent of the anvil. That good man was able to retire on a comfortable competency and to devote his time to tending the olive plants that soon began to grow round Lucy’s table, to active evangelic service in the Kesterton Circuit, for as a preacher he was in great request, and to give pleasure and delight to the old squire, who found in him an intelligent and congenial companion, well read in that sacred lore which was now Squire Fuller’s favourite study. Nathan retained his old house, in which also Harry Hepton and his young wife resided and cared for his creature comforts. He didn’t spend much time there, as may be well imagined, but still, like a wise man, he kept his household goods around him, and lived as happily as most mortals may. Though he had forsaken the anvil’s musical clink, he did not, by any means, give up singing. His grand tenor voice, mingling with Lucy’s musical treble and the tones of the piano, out of which her magic fingers evolved sweetest harmonies, formed an unfailing attraction to the happy inmates of Waverdale Hall.
The old squire continued hale and hearty and it may be safely said that he never enjoyed life as much as now. His lonely habits were all broken in upon under the new regime. The library was still a favourite resort, but Lucy was there with her wool-work or other dainty task, and Philip or his father read for their mutual delectation. By-and-bye, the squire developed quite a romping tendency, and the youthful scions of the house of Fuller were in a fair way of being spoiled by “Grandy,” who in their society renewed his youth. His lines were cast in pleasant places, and his gratitude to God found increasing expression in his kindly visits to the villagers and his unflagging interest in everything that pertained to the cause of Christ.
Philip himself was speedily elevated to the dignity of a county magistrate, and, to what he regarded as even a higher honour, the position of a local preacher on the Kesterton plan. He was beloved and esteemed by all whose lot was cast within the circle of his wide-spread influence, and was universally respected throughout the Riding. As for Lucy, I need scarcely say that she dove-tailed into her new position like one to the manner born, and all that this life can give of peace and happiness was enjoyed in connection with a piety and a Christian service, which will give mellow memories to Waverdale as long as its sylvan glories shall unfold their beauties beneath the breath of returning spring.
Old Adam Olliver and Judith, blest and happy, lived with Pete, whose Transatlantic gains sufficed for more than all their wants. He embarked in the corn trade, and soon gained for himself a connection that promised to be even more lucrative than the employment he had left beyond the sea, when he was drawn homeward by the magic of his mother’s prayers. He soon gave a convincing proof of his good sense by selecting for a wife the fair and gentle Mary Morris, who was as good a daughter to Judith and Old Adam as she had been to her ailing mother, and so the declining years of the dear old couple were spent in comfort and in peace.