But it was the pen of
youth, of feeling, of romance; and it revealed the delicate heart and
mind of a woman. There was a liberal education in it; and Victoria
watched the process at work, sometimes with jealousy, sometimes with
emotion. After all, might it not be a mere stage--and a useful one. She
reserved her judgment, waiting for the time when these two should meet
again, face to face.
September was more than halfway through, when one morning Tatham tossed a
letter to his mother across the breakfast table with the remark:
"I say, mother, the new broom doesn't seem to be sweeping very well!"
The letter was from Undershaw. Tatham--in whom the rural reformer was
steadily developing--kept up a fairly regular correspondence with the
active young doctor, on medical and sanitary matters, connected with
his own estate and the county.
"Matters are going rather oddly in this neighbourhood. I must say I can't
make Faversham out. You remember what an excellent beginning he seemed to
make a couple of months ago. Colonel Barton told me that he had every
hope of him; he was evidently most anxious to purge some at least of Mr.
Melrose's misdeeds; seemed businesslike, conciliatory, etc. Well, I
assure you, he has done almost nothing! It is not really a question of
giving him time. There were certain scandalous things, years old, that he
ought to have put right _at once_--on the nail--or thrown up his post.
The Mainstairs cottages for instance.
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