There was living with Mr. Spooner at this time a very attached
friend, whom he usually consulted in all emergencies, and to whom
on this occasion he opened his heart. Mr. Edward Spooner, commonly
called Ned by all who knew him, and not unfrequently so addressed
by those who did not, was a distant cousin of the Squire's, who
unfortunately had no particular income of his own. For the last ten
years he had lived at Spoon Hall, and had certainly earned his bread.
The Squire had achieved a certain credit for success as a country
gentleman. Nothing about his place was out of order. His own farming,
which was extensive, succeeded. His bullocks and sheep won prizes.
His horses were always useful and healthy. His tenants were solvent,
if not satisfied, and he himself did not owe a shilling. Now many
people in the neighbourhood attributed all this to the judicious care
of Mr. Edward Spooner, whose eye was never off the place, and whose
discretion was equal to his zeal. In giving the Squire his due, one
must acknowledge that he recognised the merits of his cousin, and
trusted him in everything.
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