Year after year, old Parkyn, his tenant, took the rent of Tremenhuel out of his right pocket and paid it into his left: and in time, there being no heir, he just took over the property and stepped into Cardinnock's shoes with a 'by your leave' to nobody, and there his grandson is to this day." "What became of the young lady--of Miss Cicely Williams ?" I asked.
"Died an old maid.

There was something curious between her and her only brother who had helped to stop the runaway match.

Nobody knows what it was: but when Sir Felix died--as he did about ten years after-- she packed up and went somewhere to the North of England and settled.
They say she and her brother never spoke: which was carrying her anger at his interference rather far, 'specially as she remained good friends with her father." He broke off here to fetch up the second course.

We talked no more, for I was pondering his tale and disinclined to be diverted to other topics.
Nor can I tell whether the rest of the meal was good or ill.

I suppose I ate: but it was only when the landlord swept the cloth, and produced a bottle of port, with a plate of biscuits and another of dried raisins, that I woke out of my musing.