He paused and shook his head, and Stafford remained silent: he was too
wise to break in upon the narrative. The landlord sighed and looked
lovingly at his cigar, then went on: "They offered that squire--Miss Ida's grandfather--a peerage; the
Herons had often been offered a baronetcy; but they'd always refused,
and the squire declined the peerage. He said that no man could wish to
be higher than Heron, of Herondale; that better men than he had been
contented with it, and he was quite satisfied with the rank which had
satisfied his forefathers. When he died, the followers at the funeral
made a procession a mile and a quarter long."
"How did the family lose its money, drop its greatness?" Stafford
asked.
The landlord screwed up his eyes thoughtfully.
"Well, it's hard to tell, sir," he replied. "Of course there was always
a tremendous drain going on; for it was not only down here that the
squire spent the money freely; but it was just the same or worse when
he was in London; he had a big house there, and entertained as
splendidly, perhaps more so, than he did at the Hall. In those days,
too, sir, there was as much gaming and betting as there is now, perhaps
more--though I'm told that great folks are more given nowadays to
gambling on the Stock Exchange than at cards or race-horses; begging
your pardon, sir!"
"I'm afraid you're right," assented Stafford, with his short laugh. "I
prefer the old way myself."
"Just so, sir," said the landlord, with an approving nod. "Well, what
with the money going here and there and everywhere, they found when the
present squire's father died that there was very little left; and worse
than all, that some of the land was sold, and what remained was heavily
mortgaged. It's what often happens to old families, sir, more's the
pity!"
"Yes," said Stafford. "And is the present squire like his father?"
"No, sir, not a bit," replied the landlord, with a thoughtful and
somewhat puzzled frown. "Quite the reverse. His father was free and
easy with everybody, and had a pleasant word and shake of the hand for
everyone he met; but the present squire was always shy and quiet as a
boy; kind of reserved and stand-offish, if you know what I mean, sir.
When he came into the property, he became more reserved than ever,
avoided all his father's old friends and shut himself up at the Hall
and kept himself to himself. He was a college gentleman and fond of
books, and he spent all his time alone in his library like a--a hermit.
He went abroad for a time, to Italy, they thought, and he came back
with a wife; but she didn't make things more lively, for she died soon
after Miss Ida was born. Miss Ida was the only child. She was sent away
for some time to be taken care of by one of the relatives, and she's
only been back for a couple of years."