"No, I won't," said Lady Oswald angrily. "And you ought not to turn
against me, Oswald. It is the principle of the thing I go upon; the
resistance that, in my opinion, should be universally made to these
intrusive railways, which are cutting up the country and ruining it.
If they wanted to take but one foot of my ground; if they only wanted
that dry ditch that skirts it, they should never have it by my
consent, and I will hold out against it to the last. Now you know."
She sat nervously unpinning her cashmere scarf, her hands trembling so
that she could scarcely hold the gold pins as she took them out.
Oswald Cray slowly rolled up the parchment. He had come down from town
at a very busy moment, when he could ill spare the time, with the sole
hope of soothing the news to her, of putting her in good humour with
what must inevitably be. He had received many little kindnesses from
her in his life, especially in his boyhood; and he was one to treasure
up the remembrance of kindness shown, and repay it if he could.
It may seem a very trifling thing, this project of erecting a few low,
trumpery sheds; as may Lady Oswald's inveterate objection to it. But
it is on trifles that the great events of life turn; and, but for this
project of the sheds, this not-to-be-conquered refusal, the greater
portion of this story need never have been written.
CHAPTER V.
RETROSPECT.
Of some note in the county, though poor for their rank, were the
Oswalds of Thorndyke. Thorndyke, their country seat, was situated
about five miles from Hallingham, and had been generally made the
constant residence of the reigning baronet. It was a fine old place;
the dyke surrounding it, or dike, as you may like to spell it--from
which the place no doubt had partially taken its name--was of
remarkable width. It was filled up in the time of Lady Oswald's
husband, the _third_ baronet of his name; and fine pleasure-grounds
might be seen now where unwholesome water had once stagnated. Possibly
that water had been the remote and unsuspected cause of the dying off
of so many of the house's children--as they had died in the old days.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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