THE PARTING.
Sir William dined with his cousin that day. He was to say good-bye to her that evening; for, although he did not intend leaving the neighbourhood before the day after next, he had put off some business until the last hour, and had been compelled to give up his remaining day to dry detail and humdrum affairs.
It was only latterly, within the past few days—in fact, since he had come into the neighbourhood of Daneford—he had discovered dry detail and humdrum affairs. Of old details had been to him fascinating, and affairs a passion. When a new subject came to his hand he devoured it. When a novel situation presented itself, he dashed at it as impetuously as a brave soldier at a breach.
Now all was changed. When he saw the Castle first his impulse was to set men at work on it instantly. He wished to have it put in order at once; and nothing but the appearance of indecent haste deterred him from doing so. To-morrow he had to meet, among others, the people to whom he had entrusted the work, and he wished them all at the bottom of the Weeslade.
"I never knew until now I had such a taste for rural scenery. When I was away I used to think that if I got back to England I should spend all my time in London. Now the 'Warfinger Hotel,' overlooking the broad placid Weeslade, seems to me all I could desire, with now and then a visit to the Island—a stroll through its grounds and halls alone, or with Cousin Maud.
"How cool and fresh the air is around here! Coming into a place like this out of the great cities of the world is like escaping from a riotous street into a cathedral where a choir is practising hymns.
"I wonder does she sing? I know she loves pansies best of all the flowers.
"But, as I was saying, it is strange how one's most settled ideas change as one grows older. Of course, that is but natural. When I got that pony first I thought all living creatures must admire and envy me. There was only one thing I envied of those around me, and that was their privilege of standing and seeing such a splendid sight as I and my pony going past. I would freely have given all my possessions, except my pony, for the power of admiring on foot at the roadside the fine spectacle I and my mount made riding by.
"Fancy Sir Alexander not keeping a horse and groom for Maud! He didn't ride of late years, but that is no reason why she should not. She can ride; she told me so. It is too bad to think of the dark seclusion the poor girl has been kept in. I wonder how she lived. Upon my soul it was a shame! There all day long, all the year round, in this gloomy relic of the cold past, with no other change than a few hours in this sleepy place—this humdrum city of Daneford. I am surprised she did not die. It was enough to kill anyone. Fancy passing a whole lifetime away in that old place and this dull town! Monstrous!
"Of course I shouldn't mind it, as I was saying a moment ago, for I have been in the world and seen as much as I want to see. I should feel quite content to live here always. I should never care for anything better than a bed at the 'Warfinger Hotel,' and a stroll now and then about the Midharsts' old place where the Fleureys once lived, a power in the state. But Maud living here! Monstrous!