I used to be half vexed to see her grieve so little over all we had lost; but Fulk said, “I suppose it is very hard to break down a creature at that age.”

And even I was cheered by the wonderful start of health Alured took from the time Mrs. Rowe had him.  He grew fat and rosy, and learnt to walk; and Dr. Hart was quite astonished at his progress, and said he was nearly safe from any more attacks of that fearful water on the brain till he was six or seven years old, and that, till that time, we must let him be as much as possible in the open air, and with the animals, and not stimulate his brain—­neither teach, nor excite, nor contradict him, nor let him cry.  The farm life was evidently the very thing he wanted.

What a reprieve it was, even though it should be only a reprieve!

He was already three years old, and was very clever and observant.

We were glad that he was too young to take heed of the change, or to see what was implied by his change from “baby,” to “my lord,” and we always called him by his Christian name.  Mrs. Rowe felt far too much for us to gossip to him, and he was always with her or with me, though I do believe he liked Ben—­the great, rough, hind—­better than anyone else; would lead Mrs. Rowe long dances after him, to see him milk the cows, and would hold forth to him at dinner, in a way as diverting to us as it was embarrassing to poor Ben, who used to blurt out at intervals, “Yoi, my lord,” and “Noa, my lord,” while the two maids tried to swallow their tittering.  The farmers at market used to call Fulk, “my lord,” by mistake, and then colour up to their eyes through their red faces.

I believe, indeed, it was their name for him among themselves, and that they watched him with a certain contemptuous compassion, in the full belief that he would ruin himself.

And he declares he should if he had lived a bit more luxuriously, or if he had not had the agency salary to help him through the years of buying experience and the bad season with which he began.

Nor was it till he had for some years introduced that capital breed which thrives so well in the salt marshes, and twice following showed up the prize ox at the county show, that they began to believe in “Farmer Torwood,” or think his “advanced opinions” in agriculture anything but a gentleman’s whimsies.

As to friends and acquaintance, I am afraid we showed a great deal of pride and stiffness.  They were kinder than we deserved, but we thought it prying and patronage, and would not accept what we could not return.