Many things were spoken out on this occasion which had evidently lain for some time in people’s minds. Wonder was expressed at the growing dissipation of Thorsby. Of his notoriously riotous and bacchanalian evenings with some of the richest but most immoral young men of the place. Some people wondered that his wife did not appear to see it; more uttered words of pity for her. Others said “What a fool that man is, with such a wife, with a splendid business, with a circle of acquaintances of the very first class in the town and neighbourhood, and to be running such a course. But it was only the course his father ran, and which made it a short one for him.”
The news flew to Woodburn. Sukey Priddo told it that evening on the way from the class-meeting to Betty Trapps, and Betty told it right out to Letty. As she waited on the family at supper, she said, “Well, Mr. Thorsby is a fine playful boy yet, is not he?”
“Is what?” said Letty, eagerly.
“A fine, frocksome boy,” said Betty.
“What do you mean, Betty?” added Letty, alarmed.
“I mean only that he has whisked his hat over his head, and made Mr. Qualm’s pony send him over his head.”
“Are you dreaming?” said Mr. Woodburn, somewhat angrily.
“No, sir, I am not dreaming, what I say I say; and there lies poor Mr. Qualm in bed, all shaked to a mummy, and the doctor’s bled him and said it is a bad case.”
All called on Betty to explain how it took place, and Letty was greatly agitated.
“Oh!” said George, “I see how it is. Harry has taken off his hat to the Friends as they passed, and that scamp of a pony has shied. But he cannot have hurt the old man; falling from that little brute is only like falling from a chair.”