Only
while taking stock of Hope his eyes flashed wickedly, and much too
brightly for so old a man as he appeared. He did not go far; he got
behind a tree, and watched the premises. Then a genuine old man and
feeble came and brought Hope his clock to mend. Hope wound it up, and it
went to perfection. The old man had been a stout fellow when Hope was a
boy, but now he was weak, especially in the upper story. Hope saw at
once that the young folk had sent him there for a joke, and he did not
approve it.
"Gaffer," said he, "this will want repairing every eight days; but don't
you come here any more; I'll call on you every week, and repair it for
auld lang syne."
Whilst he toddled away, and Hope retired behind his lathe to study his
model in peace, Monckton raged at the sight of him and his popularity.
"Ay," said he, "you are a genius. You can model a steam-engine or mend a
doll, and you outwitted me, and gave me fourteen years. But you will find
me as ingenious as you at one thing, and that's revenge."
And now a higher class of visitors began to find their way to the general
favorite.
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