Lenny had succeeded in finding a cottage on the road-side, not far from the Casino; and there, with a joyous face, he waited to welcome his mother to breakfast, and show how he had spent the night in arranging her furniture.
"Parson!" cried the squire, when all this news came upon him, as he was walking arm in arm with Mr.Dale to inspect some proposed improvement in the Almshouse, "this is all your fault.

Why did you not go and talk to that brute of a boy and that dolt of a woman?
You've got 'soft sawder enough,' as Frank calls it in his new-fashioned slang." "As if I had not talked myself hoarse to both!" said the parson, in a tone of reproachful surprise at the accusation.

"But it was in vain! O Squire, if you had taken my advice about the stocks,--'quieta non movere'!" "Bother!" said the squire.

"I suppose I am to be held up as a tyrant, a Nero, a Richard the Third, or a Grand Inquisitor, merely for having things smart and tidy! Stocks indeed! Your friend Rickeybockey said he was never more comfortable in his life,--quite enjoyed sitting there.
And what did not hurt Rickeybockey's dignity (a very gentlemanlike man he is, when he pleases) ought to be no such great matter to Master Leonard Fairfield.

But 't is no use talking! What's to be done now?
The woman must not starve; and I'm sure she can't live out of Rickeybockey's wages to Lenny,--by the way, I hope he don't board the boy upon his and Jackeymo's leavings: I hear they dine upon newts and sticklebacks, faugh! I'll tell you what, Parson, now I think of it, at the back of the cottage which she has taken there are some fields of capital land just vacant.