the county, with reference to the hunt; and the general feeling is said to be that the hounds should go to Boxall Hill.
At Boxhall Hill the young people established themselves on their return from the Continent. And that reminds me that one word must be said of Lady Scatcherd.
'You will always stay there with us,' said Mary to her, caressing her ladyship's rough hand, and looking kindly into that kind face.
But Lady Scatcherd would not consent to this. 'I will come and see you sometimes, and then I shall enjoy myself. Yes, I will come and see you, and my own dear boy.' The affair was ended by her taking Mrs. Opie Green's cottage, in order that she might be near the doctor; Mrs. Opie Green having married—somebody.
And of whom else must we say a word? Patience, also, of course, got a husband—or will do so. Dear Patience! it would be a thousand pities that so good a wife should be lost to the world. Whether Miss Dunstable will ever be married, or Augusta Gresham, or Mr. Moffat, or any of the tribe of the De Courcys—except Lady Amelia—I cannot say. They have all of them still their future before them. That Bridget was married to Thomas—that I am able to assert; for I know that Janet was much put out by their joint desertion.
Lady Arabella has not yet lost her admiration for Mary, and Mary, in return, behaves admirably. Another event is expected, and her ladyship is almost as anxious about that as she was about the wedding. 'A matter, you know, of such importance in the county!' she whispered to Lady de Courcy.
Nothing can be more happy than the intercourse between the squire and his son. What their exact arrangements are, we need not specially inquire; but the demon of pecuniary embarrassment has lifted his black wings from the demesne of Greshamsbury.
And now we have but one word left for the doctor. 'If you don't come and dine with me,' said the squire to him, when they found themselves both deserted, 'mind; I shall come and dine with you.' And on this principle they seem to act. Dr. Thorne continues to extend his practice, to the great disgust of Dr. Fillgrave; and when Mary suggested to him that he should retire, he always boxed her ears. He knows the way, however, to Boxall Hill as well as ever he did, and is willing to acknowledge, that the tea there is almost as good as it ever was at Greshamsbury.
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