e was no
special disease, but he was a worn-out old man. It was well that he
should allow himself to be driven out about the place every day. It
was well that he should be encouraged to get up after breakfast, and
to eat his dinner in the middle of the day after his old fashion.
It was well to do everything around him as though he were not a
confirmed invalid. But the doctor thought that he would not last
long. The candle, as the doctor said, had nearly burnt itself out in
the socket.

And yet there was no apparent decay in the old man's intellect. He
had never been much given to literary pursuits, but that which he had
always done he did still. A daily copy of whatever might be the most
thoroughly Conservative paper of the day he always read carefully
from the beginning to the end; and a weekly copy of the _Guardian_
nearly filled up the hours which were devoted to study. On Sunday
he read two sermons through, having been forbidden by the doctor to
take his place in the church because of the draughts, and thinking,
apparently, that it would be mean and wrong to make that an excuse
for shirking an onerous duty. An hour a day was devoted by him
religiously to the Bible. The rest of his time was occupied by the
care of his property. Nothing gratified him so much as the coming
in of one of his tenants, all of whom were so intimately known to
him that, old as he was, he never forgot the names even of their
children. The idea of raising a rent was abominable to him. Around
the house there were about two hundred acres which he was supposed to
farm. On these some half-dozen worn-out old labourers were maintained
in such a manner that no return from the land was ever forthcoming.
On this subject he would endure remonstrance from no one,--not even
from Isabel.

Such as he has been here described, he would have been a happy
old man during these last half-dozen years, had not his mind been
exercised day by day, and hour by hour, by these cares as to the
property which were ever present to him. A more loving heart than his
could hardly be found in a human bosom, and all its power of love had
been bestowed on Isabel. Nor could any man be subject to a stronger
feeling of duty than that which pervaded him; and this feeling of
duty induced him to declare to himself that in reference to his
property he was bound to do that which was demanded of him by the
established custom of his order. In this way he had become an unhappy
man, tro