In the awkward pause that ensued the friendly hand was about to be
removed, when Mrs. Benson, with an effort which did honour to her
resources, said, "We all have our troubles, Miss Percival, else we
shouldn't be here, as the Bible says. The good Book! Well for them as read
therein. Now, only this afternoon Mr. Menzies was talking to me about
things at large, and he says, 'Mrs. Benson, what's to be done with Struan
Glyde?' quite sudden. So I says, 'And what should be done with such a one,
Mr. Menzies, but wallop him?' and he shakes his head and says, 'He's on
the catarampus, ma'am--in one of his black fits. Tells me to go my way and
let him alone; then turns his back.' Now, what about such troubles as
that, Miss Percival?"
Miss Percival looked serious, but not especially interested. Her eyes
looked before her, but seemed not to see anything. She asked, "What did
Mr. Menzies say to him next?" but if she was interested it was not in that
matter.
Mrs. Benson brandished her voice. "Ha, you may well ask me. 'No, my man,'
he says, 'but 'tis you that must go mine while I'm head-gardener at
Wanless,' he says. That's what Mr. Menzies told him, the elderly man that
he is--and now look at this.
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