Mrs. Atterbury knew the
history of the Maule family, and declared to her sister that no
good could come from any intimacy. Old Mr. Maule, she said, was
disreputable. Mrs. Maule, the mother,--who, according to Mr.
Atterbury, had been the only worthy member of the family,--was long
since dead. Gerard Maule's sister had gone away with an Irish cousin,
and they were now living in India on the professional income of
a captain in a foot regiment. Gerard Maule's younger brother had
gone utterly to the dogs, and nobody knew anything about him.
Maule Abbey, the family seat in Herefordshire, was,--so said Mrs.
Atterbury,--absolutely in ruins. The furniture, as all the world
knew, had been sold by the squire's creditors under the sheriff's
order ten years ago, and not a chair or a table had been put into
the house since that time. The property, which was small,--L2,000 a
year at the outside,--was, no doubt, entailed on the eldest son; and
Gerard, fortunately, had a small fortune of his own, independent
of his father. But then he was also a spendthrift,--so said Mrs.
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