A visiter came to the Hollow however, about the time I speak of, who was not ready to take the testimony of his eyes, not yet of his ears, and he had both. It was an old gentleman who had left the railway station a few miles from Crocus, and depositing his baggage at the village inn desired to be driven on to the famous manufacturing establishment in the neighbourhood. He was an elderly man, but vigorous yet, of the sort of frame both of mind and body which holds out a tough resistance to life's wear and tear. That such he had seen, his somewhat set face, overhanging brows, and keen, unrestful eyes, bore witness. The brows were particularly drawn together to-day, and the eyes critical, almost suspicious, in their glance.
It happened, as the old gentleman walked slowly up the Hollow, for he had stopped the carriage at the entrance, that he fell in with Dr. Arthur. It was a very frequent thing to see visiters in Mill Hollow, strangers from other parts of the country and often foreigners from abroad; and Dr. Arthur would have gone his ways with a courteous salutation, but that in the instant of making it his eye caught some indication which obliged him to look a second time; and after that second look Dr. Arthur joined himself to the stranger and offered to be his guide and attendant. Slowly, and very taciturnly on the visiter's part, the various objects and places of interest were gone over; Dr. Arthur explaining and enlarging upon everything that seemed needful, but left very much in ignorance all the while as to the impression made upon his companion. At last, when they had reviewed the park and were sitting down to rest and to look, on one of the many places provided with seats, the old gentleman began to come out. They had passed a great many cherry trees, hanging full of their just ripe fruit; roses were all around them, as well as a multitude of other flowers both old-fashioned and homely and rare; the grounds were perfectly kept; the air was full of perfume. In the midst of all this, the old gentleman began.
'This is all very fine, sir. Do you think the owner holds his own in the matter of money? for after all, that is the test.'
Dr. Arthur smiled. 'One can hardly say of such a man that he has grown "rich," ' he said; 'but Rollo's income increases with every year.'
'Doesn't give it, or fling it, all away then?'
'All the increase he gives away. He does not "heap up riches, not knowing who shall gather them." '
'Hm!Has he nobody to come after him? I am told he has children. I should think this arrangement,' indicating the park and the roses by a vicious movement of his stick, 'would be very open to abuse.'
'Yet you can see that it is not abused. This is the pleasure-ground of the workers, where they rest, and keep well, and get well. Where they learn to forget drinking saloons, and to do without low excitements. We have fine band music here every evening in summer, which is a great attraction. The park is kept in order, as you see; the work is given by preference to mill peopletoo old or too young for the steady mill labour. And any child may have his own plot of flowers, if he will give it good care. If you enjoy such things, sir,' the young man went on with a glance at his companion, 'it will be worth your while to come here next week to the mill fruit and flower show, and see Mrs. Rollo give out the prizes.'
'Does she come here often?' the old gentleman asked in a stifled kind of voice.
'I might say daily. Of all that look after the comfort of those poor worn-out people over there, Mrs. Rollo is chief. An hour ago you would have found her pony chaise here. If you choose to step in, sir, you will find the fragrance her roses have left. They will talk of herthese poor old peopletill she comes again. They will watch for her "in the gates" till she enters there!'