Children of the Mist by Eden Phillpotts
page 58 of 642 (09%)
page 58 of 642 (09%)
|
disposition; and indeed the attorney himself was not lacking in some
urbanity of character, though few guessed it, for he kept all that was best in himself hidden under an unlovely crust. His better instincts took the shape of family affection. Damaris Blanchard and he were the last branches of one of the innumerable families of Ford to be found in Devon, and he had no small regard for his only living sister. His annual holiday from business--a period of a fortnight, sometimes extended to three weeks if the weather was more than commonly fair--he spent habitually at Chagford; and Will on these occasions devoted his leisure to his uncle, drove him on the Moor, and made him welcome. Will, indeed, was a favourite with Mr. Ford, and the lad's high spirits, real ignorance of the world, and eternal grave assumption of wisdom even tickled the man of business into a sort of dry cricket laughter upon occasions. When, therefore, a fortnight after young Blanchard's mysterious disappearance, Joel Ford arrived at his sister's cottage for the annual visit, he was as much concerned as his nature had power to make him at the news. For three weeks he stayed, missing the company of his nephew not a little; and his residence in Chagford had needed no special comment save for an important incident resulting therefrom. Phoebe Lyddon it was who in all innocence and ignorance set rolling a pebble that finally fell in thundering avalanches; and her chance word was uttered at her father's table on an occasion when John and Martin Grimbal were supping at Monks Barton. The returned natives, and more especially the elder, had been much at the mill since their reappearance. John, indeed, upon one pretext or another, scarcely spent a day without calling. His rough kindness |
|