The
infliction did not improve his temper; for the next year or two
he was constantly at warfare with one or other of his colleagues
and friends, ill brooking that the familiar control of various
local interests should fall out of his hands. But before long he
appeared to resign himself to his fate, and at present
Wattleborough saw little of him. It seemed likely that he might
still found the park which was to bear his name; but perhaps it
would only be done in consequence of directions in his will. It
was believed that he could not live much longer.
With his kinsfolk he held very little communication. Alfred Yule,
a battered man of letters, had visited Wattleborough only
twice(including the present occasion) since John's return hither.
Mrs Edmund Yule, with her daughter--now Mrs Reardon--had been
only once, three years ago. These two families, as you have
heard, were not on terms of amity with each other, owing to
difficulties between Mrs Alfred and Mrs Edmund; but John seemed
to regard both impartially. Perhaps the only real warmth of
feeling he had ever known was bestowed upon Edmund, and Miss
Harrow had remarked that he spoke with somewhat more interest of
Edmund's daughter, Amy, than of Alfred's daughter, Marian.
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