Danby is a sorry
fellow, and a domestic tyrant to boot. His wife, who is really a good,
but meek-hearted person, lived with us once. How old do you suppose
her to be?'
'Five-and-twenty perhaps.'
'Six years more than that. She has a son of the name of Harper by a
former marriage, who is in his tenth year. Anne wasn't a widow long.
Danby was caught by her good looks, and she by the bait of a
well-provided home. Unless, however, her husband gives up his corn
speculations, she will not, I think, have that much longer.'
'Corn speculations! Surely Danby has no means adequate to indulgence
in such a game as that?'
'Not he. But about two years ago he bought, on credit, I believe, a
considerable quantity of wheat, and prices happening to fly suddenly
up just then, he made a large profit. This has quite turned his head,
which, by the by, was never, as Cockneys say, quite rightly screwed
on.' The announcement of a visitor interrupted anything further the
rector might have had to say, and I soon afterwards went home.
A sad accident occurred about a month subsequent to the foregoing
conversation. The rector was out riding upon a usually quiet horse,
which all at once took it into its head to shy at a scarecrow it must
have seen a score of times, and thereby threw its rider. Help was
fortunately at hand, and the reverend gentleman was instantly conveyed
home, when it was found that his left thigh was broken.
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