CHAPTER XXI.
An Accident.
The sea of fortune doth not ever flow,
She draws her favours to the lowest ebb.
Her tides have equal time to come and go,
Her looms doth weave the fine and coarsest web.
No joy so great, but runneth to an end,
No hap so hard but may in time amend.
ot far from Scout Farm were several gentlemen's residences occupied chiefly by Manchester merchants, who travelled to and from the city morning and evening by rail. One of the largest of these residences and also the farthest away from Scoutleigh Road Station, was occupied by a Mr. Munroe, who was reputed to be a man of great wealth,
