Where he breaks down--and who would believe
this?--is in the trade department. Let him succeed in growing apple-trees
and pear-trees weighed down to the ground with choice fruit; let him
produce enormous cherries by grafting, and gigantic nectarines upon his
sunny wall, and acres of strawberries too large for the mouth. After that
they may all rot where they grow; he troubles his head no more. This is
more than his old friend Hope can stand; he interferes, and sends the
fruit to market, and fills great casks with superlative cider and perry,
and keeps the account square, with a little help from Mrs. Easton, who
has returned to her old master, and is a firm but kind mother to him.
Grace Clifford for some time could not be got to visit him. Perhaps she
is one of those ladies who can not get over personal violence; he had
handled her roughly, to keep her from going to her father's help. After
all, there may have been other reasons; it is not so easy to penetrate
all the recesses of the female heart. One thing is certain: she would
not go near him for months; but when she did go with her father--and he
had to use all his influence to take her there--the rapture and the
tears of joy with which the poor old fellow received her disarmed her
in a moment.
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