In March a great excitement was occasioned at Woodburn by the arrival of the Drurys to take possession of their farm. Mr. Drury took up his quarters at the Grange during the transfer of the farm with its crops and stock to him, for he had disposed of his own stock to his successor, and took to that on Bilts’ farm, as the most suitable to the country; for, with all Mr. Trant Drury’s theoretical notions, he had great faith in the fact, that experience of the character of a particular country and of the stock most suitable to it, was a guide not to be lightly neglected. He brought with him, however, a variety of new apparatus, and some teams and waggons, which excited the curiosity of his agricultural neighbours. The Woodburns, as friends of Mr. Drury’s, declined being engaged for him, or either of them, as his valuer, but recommended Mr. Norton, of Peafield. All seemed to go on well in the valuation, till one day Mr. Drury came home very pale and ill, saying he had had a fall down Mr. Barrowclouch’s cellar-steps as they descended to examine those regions, and Mr. Drury blamed Mr. Barrowclouch extremely for having his cellar-steps where there was a sudden turn in them unguarded by a handrail. Mr. Drury had evidently received a great shake, though no bones were broken, and was under the doctor’s hands for a fortnight, greatly to his chagrin at such a crisis. He continually murmured to himself that it was “most unfortunate—most unfortunate.” Mr. Woodburn and George, however, assured him that in the hands of Mr. Norton all would go as well as in his own. Mr. Drury looked rather astonished at such an opinion, and shook his head incredulously. It was evident that he thought his absence on the occasion, although all was left in the hands of two most competent and honourable men, a grand misfortune. All, however, came to an end as everything does; the valuation was brought in, examined by Mr. Drury, and the amount paid with the remark, that it might have been worse. Before Mr. Barrowclouch left, and before Mr. Drury had got out again, Mr. Woodburn went up to say good-bye to his neighbour of many years, the worthy old farmer. “I hope all has gone off satisfactorily,” said Mr. Woodburn, “in the valuation. Mr. Drury seems satisfied.” “Oh, is he?” said the farmer; “then I am sure I ought to be. They say it is an ill wind as blows nobody any profit, and bless me, if Mr. Drury had not fallen down those cellar-steps, I don’t think I should be worth so much by a thousand pound as I am. Pray God that he gets all right soon, and then I’m sure we shall both be right.” “But how do you mean?” asked Mr. Woodburn. “Mr. Drury, of course, could not interfere with the valuers.”