A Lifes Eclipse | Page 7

afraid so too," said Mrs Mostyn, with a sigh.
"I can't superintend the garden myself, ma'am."
"No, Ellis, you have too much to do."
"And gardens are gardens, ma'am--ours in particular."
"Yes," said Mrs Mostyn, who was thinking of the poor fellow lying at the bothy in darkness.
"And with all those glass-houses and their valuable contents, a day's neglect is never recovered."
"No, James Ellis."
"The men, too, want some one over them whom they must obey."
"Of course--of course, Ellis. And you think Daniel Barnett is quite equal to the duties?"
"Oh, yes, ma'am. He is quite as good a gardener as John Grange, so I don't think you could do better, ma'am. You see we know him, that he is trustworthy and clever."
"Well, well, I'll think about it. I will not decide this morning; but I suppose it will have to be so. I can't go appointing another man directly the breath is out of poor old Dunton's body, and with that poor fellow lying there in misery. Come to me this day week, James Ellis, and I will give my decision."
The bailiff bowed and withdrew, to go straight to the gardens, where, quite by accident, of course, Daniel Barnett came along one of the paths, and met him, looking at him inquiringly; but Ellis did not say a word about the subject nearest then to the young man's heart. He asked how the grapes were looking, and had a peep at them and the melons. Then went on through the orchid-houses, reeking with heat and moisture, and at last stood still wiping his head in the hot sunshine.
"They do you credit, Barnett," he said. "I'm very glad to see how you have thrown yourself into the gap, and managed now poor John Grange is down; everything looks perfect. I see you have kept the men up to their work."
"Done my best, Mr Ellis, of course," said the young man.
"Of course, of course. I told Mrs Mostyn I was sure you would. There, I must be off. Good-morning."
He started off for the gate, and then turned.
"Oh, by the way, Barnett, poor John Grange is to be sent up to town. I thought you would like to hear. But don't say a word to him, and--er-- I'm always at home of an evening if you care to step up and have a quiet pipe with me, and a bit of music before supper. Good-morning."
"The wind's changed," said Dan Barnett, with his face flushed up by the exultation he felt. "I'm safe two ways. Poor old Jack Grange! Well, we can't all win."
CHAPTER SIX.
The week, had passed, and Daniel Barnett had been up to the cottage twice while John Grange lay in the dark. The welcome had been warm enough from James Ellis; Mrs Ellis had been lukewarm and wary.
"Ah, well, that will come," said the young man to himself on the previous evening, after he had received his instructions from the bailiff about the fly to the station, and his duties in taking charge of John Grange, and going up with him to the little private infirmary where he was to stay for a few months if necessary. "Poor chap! I'm sorry for him, but, as I said before, we can't all win."
The day for John Grange's departure had come, and he lay back upon a little couch fighting hard to bear his misfortune like a man, and think hopefully of his future. Mrs Mostyn had been to see him four times, and spoke in the most motherly way as she prophesied a successful issue to the journey; but only left him more low-spirited as he thought of Mary and his and her future.
The couch was close to the open window, where he could feel the warm sunshine, and old Hannah had left him for a short time alone to go and finish packing his little bag, while Daniel Barnett in his best was waiting to see James Ellis, when he came from the house, receive his final instructions, and then have the fly brought to the garden-door for John Grange.
He had quite half-an-hour to wait before Ellis appeared, and on joining him held out his hand.
"Good-bye, sir," said Barnett, "but I shall see you at the bothy. I'll take great care of the poor fellow."
"I meant to congratulate you, Dan Barnett, our new head-gardener," said Ellis. "Mrs Mostyn confirms your appointment. Success to you! Now come on to the bothy, and let's get that poor fellow off. I'll let him know of it by and by--not for a week or two yet."
But John Grange, as he lay there, was feeling sure that the appointment would be given to Barnett, and he only sighed in a hopeless way, and felt that it was just. And just then he heard a step and pulled himself together.
"Come in," he