There was no taint
from her mother in her and she lived out of doors for choice and loved a
hard job. She'd pile the dry-built, granite walls with any man, and do so
much as him in a day; and folk, looking on her, foretold that she'd be
rich beyond dreams, but never know how to get a pennyworth of pleasure out
of all her money.
But Jane's one and only idol was her father, and for him she would have
done anything in her power. She counted on him being good to live for
ever, along of his cautious habits, and she'd give over all thought of any
change in the home when the crash came and the even ripple of their lives
was broke for her by a very unexpected happening.
Because, much to his own astonishment, John Warner found his mind dwelling
on a wife once more--the last thing as ever he expected to happen to him.
Indeed the discovery flustered the man not a little, and he set himself to
consider such an upheaval most careful and weigh it, as he weighed
everything, in the scales of his own future comfort and success. He was a
calculating man in all things, and yet it came over him gradual and sure
that Mrs. Bascombe had got something to her which made a most forcible
appeal and awakened fires he thought were gone out for ever when his wife
died. As for Nelly Bascombe, she was a widow and kept a shop-of-all-sorts
in Little Silver and did well thereat, and Bascombe had been dead two
years when his discovery dropped like a bolt out of a clear sky on John
Warner.
Pages:
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59