The room was hot and airless, the lawyer very prosy and unnecessarily fluent; but he seemed a straightforward, honest man, and gave them good counsel.
Malcolm was soon put into possession of all the Strickland bequest, and after this it was all plain sailing.
The land was good, and though the farm had deteriorated, a little judicious management and a moderate outlay would soon put things on a different footing.

This was Mr.Atkins's opinion; he had himself suggested that a partner with some capital should be found.
Some final arrangements were made after this; then Cedric suggested that they should have tea at the inn, and Malcolm volunteered to go in search of Elizabeth.
He felt sure that he should find her still in the churchyard, and he was right.

She was standing near one of those dreary monuments which affectionate relatives loved to raise to their departed friends in the early Victorian era.

There was old Time with his beard and scythe, a broken column, veiled mourners and a dejected-looking cherub, and the stiff funereal urn; but Elizabeth was looking at a cluster of grassy mounds under a yew tree, with simple headstones, and here and there a cross.

She looked up at Malcolm with a quiet smile.
"Have they sent you to find me ?" she asked.