THE GALAXY.
VOL. V.—JUNE, 1868.—No. 6.
Three volumes have been filled in recording one year of Steven Lawrence's life. The progress of the next can be told in almost as many pages.
Is it not so in the actual experience of every one of us? A month, or two, or three months, will yield amplest materials—rich color, depth of passion, warmth, vigor, life—materials for a great deal more than one poor three-volume story! The history of the next year, or dozen years, may be summed up in one brief sentence: "This man or woman continued to exist."
Steven Lawrence, after his return from Paris, continued to exist for another twelve months in Ashcot. He did more than exist—he worked. From the moment in which the story of Dora's disgrace, variously amplified, became known, it had been decided by all the gossips in Clithero that Steven Lawrence would give up his farm to a tenant or purchaser, and return again to his old, wild ways abroad. His heart had never been rightly in the land. Something, indefinable even to Clithero wisdom, had been wrong with the lad from the first. His life had been set awry—there was the truth!—by getting mixed up with the Squire's family. He had been made too high for his own station, and now—now could be seen how much store those of a higher class had set on him! Of course, he would part from his land (not a few persons held decided opinions as to which portion Lord Haverstock would buy, and which the Squire), and go abroad again; and about the best thing the poor fellow could do. What good could a man of his age come to with a solitary fireside, old Barbara for his companion, and never a man in the parish—gentleman or laborer—that he could take for a friend?
