460
WYLDER'S H.iJVD.
When William Wylder heard the news, he fainted; not
altogether through horror or grief, though he felt both;
but the change in his circumstances was so amazing and
momentous. It was a strange shock — immense relief —
immense horror — quite overwhelming.
Mark had done some good-natured things for him in a
small five-pound way; he had promised him that loan,
too, v\hich would have lifted him out of his Slough of
Despond, and he clung with an affectionate gratitude to
these exhibitions of brotherly love. Besides, he had ac-
customed himself — to regard Mark in the light of a great
practical genius — he knew men so thoroughly — he un-
derstood the world so marvellously! The Vicar was not
in the least surprised when Mark came in for a fortune.
He had always predicted that Mark must become very
rich, and that nothing but indolence could prevent his ul-
timately becoming a very great man. The sudden and
total disappearance of so colossal an object was itself amaz-
ing.
There was another person very strongly, though differ-
ently, affected by the news. Under pretext of business
at Naunton, Jos Larkin had driven off early to Five Oaks,
to make inspection of his purchase. He dined like a king
in disguise, at the humble little hostelry of Naunton
Friars, and returned in the twilight to the Lodge, which
he would make the dower-house of Five Oaks, with the
Howard shield over the door. He was gracious to his do-
mestics, but the distance was increased: he was nearer to
the clouds, and they looked smaller.
"Well, Mrs. Smithers," said he, encouragingly, his
long feet on the fender, for the evening was sharp, and
Mrs. S. knew that he liked a bit of fire at his tea — " any
letters — any calls — any news stirring?"
"No letters, nor calls, sir, please, except the butcher's
book. I s'pose, sir, you were viewing the body?"