Nearly Lost but Dearly Won | Page 2

portly man with a pleasant countenance, a little flushed, indicating a somewhat free indulgence in what is certainly miscalled "good living." The cast of his features was that of a person easy-going, good-tempered, and happy; but a line or two of care here and there, and an occasional wrinkling up of the forehead showed that the surface was not to be trusted. Mark, his son, was like him, and the very picture of good humour and light- heartedness; so buoyant, indeed, that at times he seemed indebted to spirits something more than "animal." But the brightness had not yet had any of the gilding rubbed off--everyone liked him, no one could be dull where he was. Mrs Franklin, how sweet and lovable her gentle face! You could tell that, whatever she might have lost, she had gained grace--a glow from the Better Land gave her a heavenly cheerfulness. And Mary--she had all her mother's sweetness without the shadow from past sorrows, and her laugh was as bright and joyous as the sunlit ripple on a lake in summer time.
The Rothwells and Franklins, as old friends, exchanged a hearty but whispered greeting.
"I daren't speak out loud," said Mark to Mary, "for fear of raising the dust, for that'll set me sneezing, and then good-bye to one another; for the first sneeze 'll raise such a cloud that we shall never see each other till we get out of doors again."
"O Mark, don't be foolish! You'll make me laugh, and we shall offend poor Mr Tankardew; but it is very odd. I never was here before, but mamma wished me to come with her, as a sort of protection, for she's half afraid of the old gentleman."
"Your first visit to our landlord, I think?" said Mr Rothwell.
"Yes," replied Mrs Franklin. "I sent my last half-year's rent by Thomas, but as there are some little alterations I want doing at the house, and Mr Tankardew, I'm told, will never listen to anything on this subject second-hand, I have come myself and brought Mary with me."
"Just exactly my own case," said Mr Rothwell; "and Mark has given me his company, just for the sake of the walk. I think you have never met our landlord?"
"No, never!--and I must confess that I feel considerably relieved that our interview will be less private than I had anticipated."
Further conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Mr Tankardew himself. He was tall and very grey, with strongly-marked features, and deeply-furrowed cheeks and forehead. His eyes were piercing and restless, but there was a strange gentleness of expression about the mouth, which might lead one, when viewing his countenance as a whole, to gather that he was one who, though often deceived, must still trust and love. He had on slippers and worsted stockings, but neither of them were pairs. He wore an old black handkerchief with the tie half-way towards the back of his neck, while a very long and discoloured dressing-gown happily shrouded from view a considerable portion of his lower raiment.
The room in which he met his tenants was thoroughly in keeping with its owner: old and dignified, panelled in dark wood, with a curiously-carved chimneypiece, and a ceiling apparently adorned with some historical or allegorical painting, if you could only have seen it.
How Mr Tankardew got into the room on the present occasion was by no means clear, for nobody saw him enter.
Mark suggested to Mary, in a whisper, that he had come up through a trap door. At any rate he was there, and greeted his visitors without embarrassment.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," he muttered, "sorry to see you standing. Ah! Dusty, I see;" and with the long tail of his dressing-gown he proceeded to raise a cloud of dust from four massive oak chairs, much to the disturbance of Mark's equanimity, who succeeded with some difficulty in maintaining his gravity. "Sorry," added Mr Tankardew, "to appear in this dishabille, must excuse and take me as I am."
"Pray don't mention it," replied both his tenants, and then proceeded to business.
The rent had been paid and receipts duly given, when the old man raised his eyes and fixed them on Mary's face. She had been sitting back in the deep recess of a window, terribly afraid of a mirthful explosion from Mark, and therefore drawing herself as far out of sight as possible; but now a bright ray of sunshine cast itself full on her sweet, loving features, and as Mr Tankardew caught their expression he uttered a sudden exclamation, and stood for a moment as if transfixed to the spot. Mary felt and looked half-confused, half-frightened, but the next moment Mr Tankardew turned away, muttered something to himself, and then entered into the subject of requested alterations. His visitors had anticipated some probable difficulties,