Tired of reading? Add this page to your Bookmarks or Favorites and finish it later.
|
|
The only living creature to whom the staid Mr. Horner could be said
to be attached, was Harry Gregson. To my lady he was a faithful and
devoted servant, looking keenly after her interests, and anxious to
forward them at any cost of trouble to himself. But the more shrewd
Mr. Horner was, the more probability was there of his being annoyed
at certain peculiarities of opinion which my lady held with a quiet,
gentle pertinacity; against which no arguments, based on mere worldly
and business calculations, made any way. This frequent opposition to
views which Mr. Horner entertained, although it did not interfere
with the sincere respect which the lady and the steward felt for each
other, yet prevented any warmer feeling of affection from coming in.
It seems strange to say it, but I must repeat it--the only person for
whom, since his wife's death, Mr. Horner seemed to feel any love, was
the little imp Harry Gregson, with his bright, watchful eyes, his
tangled hair hanging right down to his eyebrows, for all the world
like a Skye terrier. This lad, half gipsy and whole poacher, as many
people esteemed him, hung about the silent, respectable, staid Mr.
Horner, and followed his steps with something of the affectionate
fidelity of the dog which he resembled. I suspect, this
demonstration of attachment to his person on Harry Gregson's part was
what won Mr. Horner's regard. In the first instance, the steward had
only chosen the lad out as the cleverest instrument he could find for
his purpose; and I don't mean to say that, if Harry had not been
almost as shrewd as Mr. Horner himself was, both by original
disposition and subsequent experience, the steward would have taken
to him as he did, let the lad have shown ever so much affection for
him.
But even to Harry Mr. Horner was silent. Still, it was pleasant to
find himself in many ways so readily understood; to perceive that the
crumbs of knowledge he let fall were picked up by his little
follower, and hoarded like gold that here was one to hate the persons
and things whom Mr. Horner coldly disliked, and to reverence and
admire all those for whom he had any regard. Mr. Horner had never
had a child, and unconsciously, I suppose, something of the paternal
feeling had begun to develop itself in him towards Harry Gregson. I
heard one or two things from different people, which have always made
me fancy that Mr. Horner secretly and almost unconsciously hoped that
Harry Gregson might be trained so as to be first his clerk, and next
his assistant, and finally his successor in his stewardship to the
Hanbury estates.
|