This Wheeler was very fond of
shooting, and could not get a crack at a pheasant except on Highmore;
and that was a bond between him and its proprietor. It was Wheeler who
had first told Bassett not to despair of possessing the estates, since
they had inserted Sir Charles's heir at law in the entail.
This Wheeler found him now so shrunk in body, so pale and haggard in
face, and dejected in mind, that he was really shocked, and asked leave
to send a doctor from a neighboring town.
"What to do?" said Richard, moodily. "It's my mind; it's not my body.
Ah, Wheeler, it is all over. I and mine shall never have Huntercombe
now."
"I'll tell you what it is," said Wheeler, almost angrily, "you will
have six feet by two of it before long if you go on this way. Was ever
such folly! to fret yourself out of this jolly world because you can't
get one particular slice of its upper crust. Why, one bit of land is as
good as another; and I'll show you how to get land--in this
neighborhood, too. Ay, right under Sir Charles's nose."
"Show me that," said Bassett, gloomily and incredulously.
"Leave off moping, then, and I will. I advise the bank, you know, and
'Splatchett's' farm is mortgaged up to the eyes. It is not the only
one. I go to the village inns, and pick up all the gossip I hear
there.
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