A CHRISTMAS AUGURY.
The slaves at the Pineries were kept with a rather strict hand. Very
few were sold off the plantation, and then for the gravest misconduct,
when whipping had ceased to be efficacious. But they had increased
largely, and were often hired out, those for the year at Christmas or
the beginning of the year. Christmas Eve there was a general gathering,
and they were allowed a sort of ball in the great kitchen, where most
of the rough work was done. There were music and song singing, charms
were tried, and they ended with dancing. All the autumn it was looked
forward to eagerly.
The supper in the main house was early, and the smaller children were
put to bed. The three Masons and young Archibald Floyd, who had his
grandfather's name, were to be allowed at the "grand occasion." There
were a number of guests, and seats around the outside were prepared for
them.
"And we used to open the dancing," said Jane. "How proud they were
about young missy! And we tried some of the charms. Looking for your
future husband in a pail of water with a mirror at the bottom. And
jumping over the candles--do you remember that, Polly? What fun we used
to have with the girls! Why, it is three or four years since I have
been here at Christmastide."
"Oh, will they jump over the candles?" cried Jaqueline. "They did it at
the Fairfaxes' last year, and Betty put the very first one out."
"Why, Betty must be two and twenty," said Jane. "It would be queer if
the sign came true."
"It doesn't really," laughed Jaqueline. "It is like tipping your chair
over and tumbling up stairs."
"I want to try it," declared Dolly. "If you go over the whole seven you
are going to be married soon. The others count for years. And if you
put the first one out you will surely be an old maid."
Some of the songs were very pretty, some ridiculously funny, several
embellished by pantomime. Then the charms began. The first few were
rather simple, and caused an immense amount of giggling among the young
Phillises. The shadow faces were pursued with a certain awe, as if they
really were something uncanny.
Dolly, Jaqueline, and a young lady guest were the only ones of the
"quality" who cared to look.
"It is as much your own shadow as anything," declared Jaqueline, "and
it quivers so that you can hardly make it out."
The candles were lighted and placed in a row at even distances. The
young lads tried them first. There were no skirts in the way, and they
went over them triumphantly.
"But men can get mah'ied when they like," said Rose, Marian's pretty
young maid, in her soft half-lisping tone, "but girls can't always."
"Try, Rose!" exclaimed Jaqueline.
"I doan know anyone I want. An' I'm promised to go over to Gray Court
with Miss Mayan."
"You'll find someone there, perhaps."
Bathsheba, tall and supple, with the figure of a Greek sculpture, went
over the seven triumphantly. Sam caught her by the hand, and a shout
went up, echoing in a laughing chorus.
Others tried it with varying luck, evident mortification, and
disappointment. There were some who had been practicing in secret the
whole week, and were well prepared.
"Now I am going to try," said Dolly; and there was a general applauding
among the slaves. The space was made a little larger, though eyes were
eager and necks were craned; and broad smiles illuminated black and
brown faces.
"Way for Miss Dolly now. She goin' ober de whole row. Whoop, now!" and
Jep gave his knee a resounding slap.
Dolly gathered up her skirts. The first jump was a success, the candle
only flaring a little. The second--then some clapping began. The third
dainty leap brought more applause, then on and on until she had cleared
the mystical number. Shouts and laughter almost shook the roof.
"I knew you could do it, Miss Dolly," said Rose, in exultation. "And
Miss Mayan can, too."
"Now you will see my luck," and Jaqueline stepped out on the floor.
"One--two." Out went the third candle, but Jaqueline kept on and put
out the fourth. She had half a mind to be angry.
"Well, two years isn't long to wait," remarked Dolly consolingly.
"It isn't the waiting. I don't see how I could have been so stupid, for
I can jump almost anything."
Miss Marshall was a little timid, but went through the ordeal
successfully, amid bravos.
"Marian, try your luck," said Dolly, as Preston Floyd squeezed her
hand so hard it brought a flush to her cheek. "Ought she not, Cousin
Preston? She's the only remaining single girl here."
"Yes, she must," insisted Jaqueline. "You'll all have time to get good
and ready for my wedding."
Jaqueline had recovered her spirits, and caught Marian's arm, laughing
gayly.
"Yes. Why it's rare fun! Come, Marian. Then I'll try. I shall go the
whole seven," declared Preston.
Marian hung back, but they all persisted. If Mr. Greaves had been
there, or her mother, but the elders had settled to whist, there being
enough for two tables. Some sudden spirit roused her. She had done it
times before. She would be young and gay just for five minutes.
"Come." Preston was leading her out, to Jane's utter surprise. Marian
had been so dignified for the last twenty-four hours; ten years older,
it seemed, than last winter. And how girlish then!
"Marian!"
Preston laughed. "Now, Cousin Marian. The whole seven, for the honor of
the house of Floyd."
There were two graceful, successful leaps. Her hand trembled, half
a yard of skirt dropped, and out went the third candle. There was a
general cry of disappointment.
"That was an accident," declared Preston. "Light the candle. Marian,
you shall have another chance."
"No, no, no!" She caught Jane's arm. "It was very silly," but her voice
had a strained, broken sound, and she looked frightened.
"Take your turn, Cousin Preston, then let them go to dancing. The
fiddlers are tuning up."
Jane drew her sister a little aside, while Preston Floyd won the
acclaim of the crowd.
"Are you happy and satisfied, Marian, or miserable?" she asked in a
rapid tone, just under her breath. "You are so queer and changed."
"Don't," Marian entreated. "Of course I shall marry Mr. Greaves. That
was girlish foolishness, you know. And the candles really didn't mean
anything. Jaqueline," as the girl had come up to her, "we were both in
the same boat for awkwardness. I think I must be growing old, but you
did not have so good an excuse. Do you want to stay for the dancing?
Had we not better all return to the drawing room?"
The younger group demurred.
"Then Jane will stay and play propriety."
Marian turned swiftly, and was gone before Jane could utter a word.
But she paused in the hall and leaned up against the door jamb that was
almost like a column. Her breath came quick and hard.
"It is too late," she said breathlessly, to herself. "And he doesn't
care. I have passed my word, and to break it would call down a judgment
upon myself. Then--I couldn't," and she shuddered. "I am not daring
like Jaqueline, or even Dolly. But Dolly thinks it best."
When she entered the room her mother glanced up with sharp inquiry that
softened as she motioned her to her side.
"Did you get tired of the nonsense?" she asked, in an approving tone.
"My hand is most played out, and you shall take my place."
Mr. Greaves sat over opposite. He raised his serious, self-complacent
face. She could recall another,--eager, warm with rushing
emotions,--and it stood back of this one like a shadow. But, somehow,
it did not beckon her. She was only a commonplace girl, rather straitly
and strictly reared, with obedience impressed upon her from babyhood.
Her father and mother always kept their promises, and she must do the
same.
The fun was fast and furious out in the great kitchen. But at ten
the mistress appeared and made them a little speech. They were to go
to their cabins in an orderly manner, and any disturbance would be
reported. To-morrow morning they would come for their gifts, and the
week would be one of holidays.
"T'ankee, missus; t'ankee, missus!" came from voices still full of
jollity; and woolly heads bobbed in a tumultuous manner.
Christmas Day was made festive by a grand dinner, to which all the
gentry round were invited. The children had theirs in a smaller room,
with quite ornate serving, and afterward there were games until dark,
when the visitors were sent home in the different carriages. Everybody
was tired from the festivities, and the day had certainly been a
success.
"I suppose the lieutenant is quite crowded out of it all?" inquired Mr.
Jettson of his wife. "Really, Mr. Greaves isn't so bad. But Ralston
will take it mightily hard. He'd wait seven years for a woman. And
Marian seems, somehow, years older, and is beginning to have some of
your mother's dignity."
"It is all settled, certainly. As a topic it is interdicted, and one
doesn't get a chance at Marian. Mother and father are elated, only that
isn't quite the word to apply to them. And there is the Floyd cousin,
very much smitten with Dolly, and I suppose that will be a match. I
feel as if I had lost both of the girls. I had planned to do so much
for Marian, and keep her near to me."
Mrs. Jettson sighed plaintively.
"You poor girl! Then you will have to comfort yourself with Jaqueline."
"It's queer," continued Jane retrospectively, "but Randolph's family
seem nearer to me since they are growing up than my own sisters and
brother. Brandon is so bitter against the administration, and such a
tremendous aristocrat, while Randolph is always jolly and good-humored,
if he can't quite approve of what is done. And Jaqueline is so
diverting and attractive, while Mrs. Patricia is charming. If Dolly
should go away----"
"Preston Floyd is an agreeable young fellow. Of course the family is
all right, and the money, I suppose. Your father will look out for
that."
"I know Marian isn't happy----"
"It's a sad piece of business, but it is too late to move in it now."
Jane felt this was true. Could her father have made _her_ give up her
lover? Certainly he was not as arbitrary then. Or was it her salvation
that no rich lover came to hand?
There was another day of festivity, and a dinner to some who could
not come on Christmas Day. Miss Greaves was present with the two elder
children, who were stiff and proper. She did not altogether approve of
the young wife, when there were more suitable women ready to take her
brother.
The Masons gathered up their flock and drove home immediately
afterward, Mr. Jettson going with them, and the others were to follow
the next day.
"There wasn't much fun at grandpapa's, except on Christmas Eve,"
declared Varina. "Archie Floyd thinks he owns the whole world. If
grandpapa should die they will come there to live, and Uncle Brandon
own the slaves and everything."
"Children must not discuss such matters," said her father rather
peremptorily.
"But Archie said----"
"No matter about Archie."
Varina frowned and twitched her shoulders.
"Papa," said Charles after a pause, "shall you leave the plantation and
everything to Louis because he is the oldest?"
"My son, I warn you that I shall live a long, long while. You will all
have a chance to make your own fortunes and marry and have homes of
your own. So don't trouble about any such foolishness. And you are all
too young to consider the point."
"But people do in England."
"We are not in England," commented his father dryly.
"What a mess of nonsense has been talked at the Pineries!" he said
to his wife with some vexation afterward. "Mr. Floyd has grown very
grasping, and thinks so much of money. And that boy puts on airs enough
for three grown-up fellows. Let children be children, say I, and not
bother their heads about the affairs of older people. I'm sorry for
Marian. Anyone can see that her heart is not in this marriage. She's
changed beyond everything. But it is set for the spring. Dolly will be
more like to have her own way, as the Fates have sent her an acceptable
lover."
Jaqueline was all in a flurry to go to Washington, and started at
the first opportunity. The Carringtons had begged for a week, as some
cousins were coming, and they were to give the young people a ball.
"You are a sad gadabout," sighed her father. "But you keep the house
astir here with your coming and going. It is time you began to learn
something useful. I shall look up a nice steady-going man of forty or
thereabouts, and marry you out of hand some day."
"Let me see--is there anyone near here that answers the requirements?"
and she laughed saucily as she put her soft arms around her father's
neck. "He must have an estate, of course,--it will not do for me to
fall behind-hand in family dignity,--and a long pedigree. Do you know
whether the Masons, like the old Scotch woman's ancestors, had a boat
of their own at the time of the flood?"
"I am pretty sure there must have been Masons," he replied gravely.
Mrs. Jettson received her with open arms. "Jaqueline, have you any
idea of how fortunate you are? Congress is in session, and I have never
known Washington so gay. And the White House is fine in its new array,
while Mrs. Madison is as charming as ever. And Mrs. Van Ness is giving
the most elegant entertainments. Roger Carrington was in here last
evening to see if you really were coming."
"Mrs. Carrington gives a ball next Tuesday evening for some young
visitors. And I am invited over to Georgetown for a week. So I just
coaxed to come up here a few days, for you would know about suitable
gowns. I don't suppose you have heard from Marian?"
"Not a word. But Arthur told Lieutenant Ralston. Really, my dear, he
had half a mind to go up there and tear her out of the family bosom
by main force. He couldn't believe it at first. He wrote a letter to
Marian, but I am certain no one could get it to her, although he sent
by a special messenger. I have given up. And Dolly's engagement is
announced. Mr. Floyd spoke before he went away. I had such a complacent
letter from mother. It made me angry, it really did. Well, her whole
duty is done, unless she lives to marry off her granddaughters."
"I suppose Dolly is really in love?" Jaqueline had not considered her
very enthusiastic. She had a girl's romantic ideal of love, fostered
by the attention and affection her father gave her stepmother. Had he
loved her own mother in that fashion?
"Dolly is a little ninny!" declared the elder sister in disdain. "They
all thought she was going wild over that young Chase, but she seemed
to drop him easy enough. He is going to the bad as fast as possible,
though I don't believe in a woman wrecking her whole life to save a
man, for, after all, she rarely does it. And I'm sorry to have Dolly
go so far away. Oh, I _do_ wonder if I shall ever be glad to have
baby Jaqueline marry and go out of my sight! Yet I suppose having old
maids on your hands is rather mortifying. There are some new shops on
Pennsylvania Avenue, with such pretty things, although there is so much
talk about the difficulty of getting goods from abroad. And everybody
complains of money being scarce, but there seems a good deal to spend,
some way."
Washington was certainly looking up. Handsome houses were being built,
and famous men were to be seen in the streets and at the different
entertainments. There were weekly dinner parties at the White House,
managed with such tact that no one was affronted, those left out
knowing their turn would come next.
Jane and Mr. Jettson had an engagement that evening--"a dinner where
they are going to talk improvements and the best way of getting a grant
from Congress; no dancing and no nice young men to flatter a lady,"
declared Mr. Jettson. "Jane thinks them tiresome, but she can put in a
word now and then, since it is our bread and butter."
"Oh, I'd rather stay at home! There is that 'Lay of the Last Minstrel'
to read. Who is this wonderful new poet? Aunt Catharine made me
read 'The Course of Time' when I paid her my visit; aloud, too, so I
couldn't skip much, but it was dreadfully tiresome. This goes along
with a rush."
So Jaqueline settled herself in the easiest chair she could find, and
put her feet on the rounds of another. The candles gave a softened
light; but in spite of interest she was getting drowsy when there was a
hasty knock and a discussion in the hall. Then Sam opened the door and
ushered in Lieutenant Ralston.
"I hope you won't think me a nuisance," as Jaqueline was straightening
herself up in some confusion, and feeling if the knot of abundant hair
was on the top of her head or pushed over one side. "I'm sorry Mrs.
Jettson is out, and I recall the fact now that she had an engagement.
But I am very glad to see you, selfishly glad. Do I interrupt anything
important?"
"Oh, no!" She held out her hand cordially.
"You were up to the Pineries," he began abruptly. "Did Marian seem----"
"We didn't think her real happy." Jaqueline hesitated. How much ought
she to admit?
"I wrote her a letter. I wanted to know the truth. You see, I have been
perfectly honorable. I told her I would wait seven years or twice seven
years, and she promised to do the same. I couldn't believe she accepted
this man of her own free will. And then I wrote, taking precautions
to have it reach her. It has been opened and returned to me without a
word. Here it is. That is not Miss Floyd's handwriting."
"It is grandpapa's."
"Do you suppose she gave the letter to him?"
"I am afraid she must have. You see, the engagement has been announced
everywhere, and they sit together in church. The neighbors give little
companies for them, and Mr. Greaves acts as if he had full right to
her."
Ralston dashed the letter to the floor. "Then she is weak and false!"
he cried in a passion. "I could wait with very little encouragement, so
long as it _was_ waiting. We are both young, and I have my fortune to
make. But when she engages herself to another, when--Mrs. Jettson said
there was talk of a marriage in the spring! Even if she had written
to explain--I think I could have stood being given up by her if she
had said it was a mistake, and she had found she was over-hasty. It
was sudden--done in those two days; but then I had seen her frequently
during her visit to Mrs. Jettson, and I was sure she cared for me. She
had a kind of shy way--looking back and forth; do you remember it? But
perhaps the glances are only meant for a lover's eyes," smiling faintly
in spite of the anger. "Either she loved me or she was a coquette."
"She is not a coquette!" exclaimed Jaqueline decisively. "And she never
had a real lover until----" Then the girl stopped and flushed.
"What I can't understand is her accepting this man if she loved me,
taking his caresses and his plans for a life together----"
"Oh, he isn't the caressing sort!" interrupted Jaqueline. "And yet I
don't see how she could, if she loved you. I wouldn't have been forced
to accept him. I wouldn't have promised anybody. I would just have
waited. But Grandfather Floyd is very arbitrary, and when he makes up
his mind, there is no relenting. Oh, I am afraid you can't understand!
You don't know him."
"The time is past when a woman is compelled to marry a man she
doesn't want," he said with an angry sneer. "I know the old adage
says that a continual dropping will wear away a stone. But this has
been such a little while. There may be shaly natures that the dropping
disintegrates rapidly. And you girls never talked with her about it,
which seems strange to me."
"We scarcely saw her alone. And we were strictly forbidden to speak of
it."
"Then he must have felt afraid of your influence."
Ralston looked eagerly at the girl, as if he was searching for some
ground of hope.
"It can't be changed any way, I think. Marian has accepted it, and the
whole neighborhood has congratulated her. The wedding has been put down
as a certainty."
"If I pity her I shall keep on loving her and thinking something _may_
happen. And if I believe her weak and false I shall despise her and get
over it. One couldn't respect such a weak woman!"
Jaqueline wanted to make a protest. It was very hard to be despised,
and she thought Marian hardly deserved that.
"I suppose this wouldn't have happened if I had been the rich man," and
there were lines of scorn about his mouth.
Jaqueline knew it wouldn't. Did not money measure most of the things
in this life? And Lieutenant Ralston was young, energetic, very
good-looking, and delightful; Mr. Greaves was thin, with a large
nose, and high, narrow forehead, his hair sprinkled with gray at the
temples. He was gentlemanly, but rather pompous; and there was nothing
entertaining about him, unless it was to old Mr. Floyd. Marian had
always seemed so young.
"If I knew who returned that letter! If I knew _she_ had seen it!" He
was walking back and forth, and just touched it with the toe of his
boot. It would have a curious sacredness if it had been in her hands;
her father's hands and eyes made it a thing to be despised. Had he
sneered over it?
"I am quite sure she never saw it," returned Jaqueline decisively.
He picked it up and threw it into the fire.
"You see," he began apologetically, "that I have come to you and Mrs.
Jettson because you were near to her and knew her best. I dare say I
have made myself quite ridiculous, prating of love----"
"Oh, no, not that!" she interrupted quickly. "And I am so sorry it has
come out this way. I was so interested in it all, and even papa liked
you so much."
That was comforting. He would be proud of the esteem of such a man as
Randolph Mason. Other men had failed to win their first loves. Even Mr.
Madison, as the story went, had been positively engaged to a charming
young woman who had changed her mind and married another. And where
would one find a more devoted couple than the President and his wife,
who had had her youthful love and misfortunes and sorrows?
"When a man resolves to put a thing out of his mind he can do it if he
has any force of character." Ralston held his head up very erect now,
though he still kept pacing the floor.
"That would be best," advised Jaqueline.
"Oh, yes; there is no use going about the world crying for the moon,
when the sun shines as much again, and there is a good deal to do. So
I shall not be a lovelorn swain, but go on with an earnest effort, for
I have some ambitions, and though the times may seem tame by contrast
with the stirring events of our fathers', there are still grave
questions to study. It is not all froth and amusement. I hope you are
going to remain a while. You're like a sister to Mrs. Jettson."
"I am invited to Georgetown for a week. And I think I shall stay quite
a while. It's so delightful here, and rather dull at home. I do miss
Patricia very much."
"And there is a ball at the Carringtons'. I am glad you are to be
there. Roger and I are fast friends. And now have I not bored you
enough? I will try to make amends in the future. Will you tell Mrs.
Jettson the result of my letter? She warned me. Your father warned me;
but I suppose willful youth will have its own way. Good-night. Let me
see--there is a levee to-morrow evening, and you have not seen the new
plenishings yet. We are very grand in yellow satin and damask. If Mrs.
Jettson is not engaged you must go."
"Poor Marian!" Jaqueline sighed, in relating the interview to Jane and
contrasting the lovers. "I don't believe grandpapa could compel me,
and she is so much older, too. And when she sees Dolly's delight and
happiness!"
"I have given her up," confessed Mrs. Jettson. "She may be comfortable,
and perhaps happier than at home. Oh, Jaqueline, be thankful that your
father doesn't belong to the Floyd branch! For Brandon will be his
father right over again. There must be a sort of Puritan strand in
them. When you find me so stiff and strenuous you had better banish me
at once."
Jaqueline met some people at the levee who remembered her, which
was quite flattering to the young girl. She hardly knew which of
her cavaliers she admired most, the fine-looking lieutenant or Mr.
Carrington. Both were made much of by the ladies, and cordially
recognized by the men of the period who were to be the heroes of
succeeding generations.
The ball was quite delightful. Though it was given for the young
people, there were mothers and aunts, and not a few fathers who dropped
in later in the evening. Young people were not left to themselves, and
the elders enjoyed seeing the pretty triumphs of their daughters and
telling little anecdotes of their own youth and their conquests.
It was true that Lieutenant Ralston did not wear the willow outwardly.
Yet as time went on and his love for Marian having nothing to feed
upon chilled the warm exultation of hope, he grew a trifle bitter at
heart, and indulged in some cynical reflections that had stings of wit.
Indeed, wit and repartee were largely cultivated then. There were few
books to talk about, except among the learned men, who still affected
classic lore. And it was not considered a womanly accomplishment for
the fair sex to be versed in politics. It seems strange to us now
that there should have been so much talk in letters and journals about
finery and fashion, and who was paying his addresses to this or that
young damsel, and the furnishing of someone's new house.
Perhaps the women of that time were more discreet. For Mrs. Madison
must have been close in her husband's confidence all those trying
years, and known how to leave a good deal unsaid. But general society
then was for the entertainment of all, and each one was expected to do
his or her share. Good-breeding was a virtue.
Jaqueline was gay enough. Virginian girls had a charm and
attractiveness besides mere beauty of feature. So week by week her
return home was put off, until a visit from Dolly Floyd was announced.
Mr. Floyd was quite ailing, and his wife could not leave him. Mrs.
Mason was asked to consult with Mrs. Jettson and see what was proper,
and have the wedding trousseau prepared, since Dolly was to go away,
and there was hardly time to send abroad. Mr. Floyd had insisted upon
a wedding just after Easter, as he was to go to New York to attend to
some business for his father, and he would be delighted to have Dolly
bear him company.
"But Marian?" exclaimed Mrs. Mason, when Dolly had unfolded her budget.
"Marian insists that she won't be married until June. And mother has
given her that beautiful pearl-satin gown in which she was married to
papa, and after that she grew so stout she could never wear it. But
mother prefers that she shall be married in white. Marian has grown to
be quite an old woman already; you can't think how queer she is!"
Mrs. Mason's heart went out with sympathy to her young sister-in-law,
who was trying in such a rigid fashion to fit herself for her new
life. Mrs. Jettson felt rather hurt at first that the matter was not
delegated wholly to her, since the shopping and the work must be done
in Washington.
"But, you see, I am to get some things in New York afterward, and Mrs.
Marshall brought over some patterns that her sister sent from Paris,
and she is to send us her mantua-maker. You know she had Sarah trained,
when they were over, to make frocks and caps and mantles. She is to sew
for Marian."
"And is Marian as happy as you?" asked Mrs. Jettson, studying the young
girl.
Dolly shrugged her shoulders. She was a flippant little thing, occupied
mostly with herself. Her own pleasure came first.
"I don't see how she can be, with that stick of a lover. I'm sure you
can't compare him with Preston. But if he suits her--and she's trying
to take an interest in the children. I think they're hideous. Oh, Jane,
it is a great shame the lieutenant hadn't been better off! He's such
a delightful fellow. There was a dreadful time about him. But, good
gracious! I was not to say a word," and Dolly turned pale.
"Do you know whether Marian had a letter from him soon after the
holidays?"
"Did he write? Why, that was romantic! No--I do not believe it reached
her. And if it had, it couldn't have altered anything. Mr. Greaves is
very much in earnest, and Marian will have one of the finest houses in
the county. Then he talks of going to England and leaving the two older
children for their education. Some cousin or uncle or relative died a
while ago; and if someone else should die he would come in for a title
and a fine estate. Father is quite elated over that. Father should have
been born an English aristocrat," and Dolly laughed. "But if I wasn't
so in love with Preston I might be captured by the young soldier or
some of the beaus with which Washington abounds. Oh, dear! if we could
have come to the inauguration! I'm glad to go away, for it's wretchedly
dull all about the Pineries. And Charleston is quite gay, Preston
writes."
The shopping was done, and the gowns and coats and pelisses left at
Mrs. Sweeny's, who was quite celebrated for her taste.
Then Dolly was suddenly summoned home. Her father had a poorly spell,
and Mr. Greaves had met with an accident. As he was going to mount his
horse one morning to ride over to the Pineries, an owl that had been
nesting in a tree near the house made a flight across the lawn, at
which the horse shied and knocked down his master, whose head struck
the stepping-stone, and he had lain unconscious ever since, but no
bones were broken. They had a hope that it would not prove serious,
since Mr. Greaves had an excellent constitution and had never been ill
a day in his life.