"If he had only been a little older——" began the nurseryman.
"Oh, I am not particular as to age."
"I was merely considering, my lord—that man who has been round the gardens with you——"
"Would suit me exactly," interrupted Lord St. Ledger. "I took a fancy to him at once. He loves plants. He looks full of intelligence and honesty."
"Honesty! Honest as the day. And as for intelligence, there is no lack of that. Experience may be wanting."
"I'll take him," said Lord St. Ledger. "I took stock of the fellow whilst he was going round with me."
"I am sorry to part with him," said the nurseryman, "and yet I should be more sorry to stand in the way of Richard's advancement."
No sooner had the young man news of his engagement, and that he had to look to a comfortable cottage, a good income, and employment in which he was sure he could be happy and give satisfaction to his employers, than he hastened to his native place, which he had been unable to revisit for six months.
He was full of hope, full of joy, but on his arrival his joy was somewhat dashed and his hope clouded. He found that his Mary, whom he had loved since boyhood, was manifestly in a decline. Hoping against hope, snatching at every encouraging symptom, she had not forewarned him, and he saw on his arrival that already she was deathstruck.