Holbrook's affairs, and I am very anxious to
see her placed in undisputed possession of her late grandfather's
property."
"I should think her husband would see after that," Mr. Tulliver remarked
with a sneer.
Gilbert left the court after having asked a few questions about Jacob
Nowell's funeral. The old man had been buried at Kensalgreen, followed to
the grave only by the devoted Tulliver, Mr. Medler, and the local surgeon
who had attended him in his last illness. He had lived a lonely
friendless life, holding himself aloof from his fellow-creatures; and
there were neither neighbours nor friends to lament his ending. The
vagabond boys of the neighbourhood had clustered round the door to
witness the last dismal ceremony of Mr. Nowell's existence, and had hung
about the shop-front for some time after the funeral _cortege_ had
departed, peering curiously down into the darksome area, and speculating
upon the hoards of wealth which the old miser had hidden away in
coal-cellars and dust-bins, under the stone flags of the scullery, or in
the crannies of the dilapidated walls. There were no bounds to the
imagination of these street Arabs, who had been in the habit of yelping
and whooping at the old man's heels when he took his infrequent walks
abroad, assailing him with derisive epithets alluding to his miserly
propensities.
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