and that but a few weak flickers more,
and the ailing man's plaints and griefs would be hushed in the dark
silence of the grave.

Mr. Lisle had no relatives at Watley, and the only individual with whom
he was on terms of personal intimacy, was Mr. Peter Sowerby, an attorney
of the place, who had for many years transacted all his business. This
man visited Mr. Lisle most evenings, played at chess with him, and
gradually acquired an influence over his client which that weak gentleman
had once or twice feebly, but vainly endeavored to shake off. To this
clever attorney, it was rumored, Mr. Lisle had bequeathed all his wealth.

This piece of information had been put in circulation by Caleb Jennings,
who was a sort of humble favorite of Mr. Lisle's, or, at all events, was
regarded by the misanthrope with less dislike than he manifested towards
others. Caleb cultivated a few flowers in a little plot of ground at the
back of the house, and Mr. Lisle would sometimes accept a rose or a bunch
of violets from him. Other slight services--especially since the recent
death of his old and garrulous woman-servant, Esther May, who had
accompanied him from London, and with whom Mr. Jennings had always been
upon terms of gossiping intimacy--had led to certain familiarities of
intercourse; and it thus happened that the inquisitive shoemaker became
partially acquainted with the history of the wrongs and griefs which
preyed upon, and shortened the life of the prematurely-aged man.

The substance of this every-day, common-place story, as related to us by
Jennings, and subsequently enlarged and colored from other sources, may
be very briefly told.

Ambrose Lisle, in consequence of an accident which occurred in his
infancy, was slightly deformed. His right shoulder--as I understood, for
I never saw him--grew out, giving an ungraceful and somewhat comical
twist to his figure, which, in female eyes--youthful ones at least--sadly
marred the effect of his intelligent and handsome countenance. This
personal defect rendered him shy and awkward in the presence of women of
his own class of society; and he had attained the ripe age of
thirty-seven years, and was a rich and prosperous man, before he gave the
slightest token of an inclination towards matrimony. About a twelvemonth
previous to that period of his life, the deaths--quickly following each
other--of a Mr. and Mrs. Stevens, threw their eldest daughter, Lucy, upon
Mr. Lisle's hands. Mr. Lisl