Sylvia's Lovers - Page 208/290

Philip had money in the Fosters' bank, not so much as it might have

been if he had not had to pay for the furniture in his house. Much

of this furniture was old, and had belonged to the brothers Foster,

and they had let Philip have it at a very reasonable rate; but still

the purchase of it had diminished the amount of his savings. But on

the sum which he possessed he drew largely--he drew all--nay, he

overdrew his account somewhat, to his former masters' dismay,

although the kindness of their hearts overruled the harder arguments

of their heads.

All was wanted to defend Daniel Robson at the approaching York

assizes. His wife had handed over to Philip all the money or money's

worth she could lay her hands upon. Daniel himself was not one to be

much beforehand with the world; but to Bell's thrifty imagination

the round golden guineas, tied up in the old stocking-foot against

rent-day, seemed a mint of money on which Philip might draw

infinitely. As yet she did not comprehend the extent of her

husband's danger. Sylvia went about like one in a dream, keeping

back the hot tears that might interfere with the course of life she

had prescribed for herself in that terrible hour when she first

learnt all. Every penny of money either she or her mother could save

went to Philip. Kester's hoard, too, was placed in Hepburn's hands

at Sylvia's earnest entreaty; for Kester had no great opinion of

Philip's judgment, and would rather have taken his money straight

himself to Mr. Dawson, and begged him to use it for his master's

behoof.

Indeed, if anything, the noiseless breach between Kester and Philip

had widened of late. It was seed-time, and Philip, in his great

anxiety for every possible interest that might affect Sylvia, and

also as some distraction from his extreme anxiety about her father,

had taken to study agriculture of an evening in some old books which

he had borrowed--The Farmer's Complete Guide, and such like; and

from time to time he came down upon the practical dogged Kester with

directions gathered from the theories in his books. Of course the

two fell out, but without many words. Kester persevered in his old

ways, making light of Philip and his books in manner and action,

till at length Philip withdrew from the contest. 'Many a man may

lead a horse to water, but there's few can make him drink,' and

Philip certainly was not one of those few. Kester, indeed, looked

upon him with jealous eyes on many accounts. He had favoured Charley

Kinraid as a lover of Sylvia's; and though he had no idea of the

truth--though he believed in the drowning of the specksioneer as

much as any one--yet the year which had elapsed since Kinraid's

supposed death was but a very short while to the middle-aged man,

who forgot how slowly time passes with the young; and he could often

have scolded Sylvia, if the poor girl had been a whit less heavy at

heart than she was, for letting Philip come so much about her--come,

though it was on her father's business. For the darkness of their

common dread drew them together, occasionally to the comparative

exclusion of Bell and Kester, which the latter perceived and

resented. Kester even allowed himself to go so far as to wonder what

Philip could want with all the money, which to him seemed

unaccountable; and once or twice the ugly thought crossed his mind,

that shops conducted by young men were often not so profitable as

when guided by older heads, and that some of the coin poured into

Philip's keeping might have another destination than the defence of

his master. Poor Philip! and he was spending all his own, and more

than all his own money, and no one ever knew it, as he had bound

down his friendly bankers to secrecy.