I determined to do so in
disguise. My booby cousin had never seen enough of me to be very
familiar with my countenance, and a few years make great difference
between youth and manhood. I understood he was a breeder of cattle and
proud of his stock. I dressed myself, therefore, as a substantial
farmer, and with the assistance of a red scratch that came low down on
my forehead, made a complete change in my physiognomy.
It was past three o'clock when I arrived at the gate of the park, and
Was admitted by an old woman, who was washing in a dilapidated building
which had once been a porter's lodge. I advanced up the remains of a
noble avenue, many of the trees of which had been cut down and sold for
timber. The grounds were in scarcely better keeping than during my
uncle's lifetime. The grass was overgrown with weeds, and the trees
wanted pruning and clearing of dead branches. Cattle were grazing about
the lawns, and ducks and geese swimming in the fishponds.
The road to the house bore very few traces of carriage wheels, as my
cousin received few visitors but such as came on foot or on horseback,
and never used a carriage himself. Once, indeed, as I was told, he had
had the old family carriage drawn out from among the dust and cobwebs
of the coachhouse and furbished up, and had drove, with his mother, to
the village church to take formal possession of the family pew; but
there was such hooting and laughing after them as they passed through
the village, and such giggling and bantering about the church door,
that the pageant had never made a reappearance.
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