The shock to poor Dutton was, I
understood, overwhelming for a time, and fears were entertained for
his intellects. He recovered, however, and took charge of his
grandchild, the father very willingly resigning the onerous burden.
My brother-in-law left James Dutton's neighbourhood for a distant part
of the country about this period, and I saw nothing of the bereaved
father for about five years, save only at two business interviews. The
business upon which I had seen him, was the alteration of his will, by
which all he might die possessed of was bequeathed to his darling
Annie. His health, I was glad to find, was quite restored; and
although now fifty years of age, the bright light of his young days
sparkled once more in his keen glance. His youth was, he said, renewed
in little Annie. He could even bear to speak, though still with
remorseful emotion, of his own lost child. 'No fear, Sharp,' he said,
'that I make that terrible mistake again. Annie will fall in love,
please God, with no unlettered, soulless booby! Her mind shall be
elevated, beautiful, and pure, as her person--she is the image of her
mother--promises to be charming and attractive. You must come and see
her.' I promised to do so; and he went his way. At one of these
interviews--the first it must have been--I made a chance inquiry for
his son-in-law, Hamblin.
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