med (even
Mr. Cartmell spoke conjecturally), an era of speculation followed--first
in England, then in America. "That," Cartmell interjected, "was when he
picked up this girl's mother, not that she was American, but he met her
about that time." He must have speculated largely and successfully, or
he could not have made all that money--so stood the case. The money
made, the process of "driving his wedge into the county" began. "The
county" must, here and henceforward, be carefully distinguished from
"the town." Geographical contiguity does not bridge a social chasm.

First he bought Hatcham Ford, a small but beautiful Jacobean house lying
on the banks of the river, some mile and a half out of Catsford at that
time, now caught in the lengthening fringe of the town. While in
residence there, he spread his territory to the north and west,
acquiring all the outlying farms which the Lord Fillingford of the day
was free to sell; then, too, he made his first audacious bid for
Fillingford Manor itself--the first of many, it appeared. Though the
later no longer seemed audacious, all had been fruitless; Lord
Fillingford could not sell without his son's consent, and that was
withheld. The family struggled on in perpetual financial straits, hating
Nicholas Driver, but envying him his money, never coming to an open
rupture with him for fear of his power or apprehension of its own
necessities; never sparing a sneer or a secret thrust when either was
safe. For his part, baffled in that quarter, he turned to the east and
approached Mr. Dormer of Breysgate Priory. It was a beautiful place.
Down by the lake lay the old Cistercian monastery; the original building
was in ruins, but a small house had been built on in the days of
Elizabeth, and this was still habitable. High on the hill stood the big,
solidly handsome, Georgian mansion, erected by the Dormer of the day
when the estate came into the hands of the family. From the hilltop the
park rolled out and out in undulating curves of rich grass-land and
spreading woods. To Nicholas Driver's joy and surprise--he had
anticipated another struggle and feared another rebuff--Mr. Dormer was
ready to sell--for a price. He was elderly, his wife middle-aged, his
only heir a cousin toward whom he was indifferent and who, though heir
of entail to the property, would be unable to keep it up, unless his
predecessor left him money for the purpose. In these circumstances
matters were soon arranged. The c