George, recollecting Arnold’s solemn vow,
Bethought himself of future joy: and so—
In silent solitude—he work’d away,
And tried to gather comfort through the day.
He doubted not that Arnold would redeem
The solemn pledges he had made to him—
That he should come and live on his estate,—
Live at the lodge and keep the entrance-gate:
(Adjoining which were well-plann’d premises,
For cows or pigs; for chickens, ducks or geese:)
And there, such things should be at his command,
As compensation for his daughter’s hand:
This, for his life-time, should be set apart;
Together with a nice light horse-and-cart.
But ere this possibly could be enjoy’d,
Full eight months more, his time must be employ’d
At Westonbury,—there (in sun or shade)
To serve the year’s engagement he had made
With the new occupants now at the Hall;—
For all the Prews were gone—yes, one and all
Were gone to their long home! So George worked on
Until these eight months’ solitude had flown:
But not a week pass’d by without the post
Convey’d to Hollybrand (from one who cost
Him many a tear) a letter; which scann’d o’er,
Infused in George—a hundred times or more—
A gleam of joy; and, oft when he would pore
Each well-filled page, he’d turn to her dear name,
Imprint a kiss—and then infold the same.