Consequently, he
now had the great house for a mere nothing until such times as the owner
could convert it into that last refuge for deserted houses--an academy, or
a 'young ladies' seminary.' Mr. Viney now, having plenty of leisure,
frequently drove his 'missis' (once a lady's maid in a quality family) up
to Nonsuch House, as well for the sake of the airing--for the road was
pleasant and picturesque--as to see if he could get the 'little trifle' Sir
Harry owed him for post-horses, bottles of soda-water, and such trifles as
country gentlemen run up scores for at their posting-houses--scores that
seldom get smaller by standing. In these excursions Mr. Viney made the
acquaintance of Mr. Watchorn; and a huntsman being a character with whom
even the landlord of an inn--we beg pardon, hotel and posting-house--may
associate without degradation, Viney and Watchorn became intimate. Watchorn
sympathized with Viney, and never failed to take a glass in passing, either
at exercise or out hunting, to deplore that such a nice-looking house, so
'near the station, too,' should be ruined as an inn.
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