Domestic fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Wales -- Fiction
At this her woman's heart was a little softened, though she did
despise him thoroughly. "I don't know about turning, Mr Jones, but
they have been used to such different ways."
"Don't they get enough to eat?"
"Yes, sir; there's enough to eat, no doubt. I don't know as you have
interfered about that; not but what as master you might. It isn't the
victuals."
"What is it, Mrs Griffith? Why do they want to go away?"
"Well, it is chiefly because of your sitting here alone,--never
moving, never having your hat on your head, sir. Of course a
gentleman can do as he pleases in his own house. There is nothing
to make him go out, not even to see his own tenants, nor his own
farm, nor nothing else. He's his own master, sir, in course;--but
it is mysterious. There is nothing goes against them sort of
people,"--meaning the servants inferior to herself,--"like
mysteries."
Then they already felt that there was a mystery! Oh! what a fool he
had been to shut himself up and eat his food there! Of course they
would know that this mystery must have some reference to the will.
Thus they would so far have traced the truth as to have learnt that
the will had a mystery, and that the mystery was located in that
room!
There is a pleasant game, requiring much sagacity, in which, by a
few answers, one is led closer and closer to a hidden word, till one
is enabled to touch it. And as with such a word, so it was with his
secret. He must be careful that no eye should once see that his face
was turned towards the shelf. At this very moment he shifted his
position so as not to look at the shelf, and then thought that she
would have observed the movement, and divined the cause.
"Anyways, they begs to say respectful that they wishes you to take
a month's warning. As for me, I wouldn't go to inconvenience my old
master's heir. I'll stay till you suits yourself, Mr Jones; but the
old place isn't to me now what it was."
"Very well, Mrs Griffith," said Cousin Henry, trying to fix his eyes
upon an open book in his hands.
CHAPTER X
Cousin Henry Dreams a Dream
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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