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From Newbury and the green meadows of the Kennet the Hampshire hills may be seen, looking like the South Down range at its highest point viewed from the Sussex Weald. I made for Coombe Hill, the highest hill in Hampshire, and found it a considerable labour to push my machine up from the pretty tree-hidden village of East Woodhay at its foot.
"That's a bright one just over the coombe, the girls about here call it 'Light o' Love." Moving stiffly, and with great pain, Helmsley was nevertheless impelled, despite his suffering, to look, as she was looking, towards the heavens.
The child returned to her book with a discontented sigh. Esther came nearer and spoke in a lower tone. "But before you go," she said, "please don't forget to replace Aunt Amy's ring. If she were to find it gone it would be no joke but a serious shock, as I suppose you know." Mrs. Coombe laughed. And Esther realised that a laugh was the last thing she had expected.
At last from somewhere below came the sound of running water, and Nan bent her steps hopefully in its direction. A few minutes' further walking brought her to the head of a deep-bosomed coombe, and the mere sight of it was almost reward enough for the difficulties of the journey.
The doctor acknowledged the introduction with a bow and a quick smile of gratitude. "You are really very kind, Miss Coombe," he said. "If if I should take Dr. Spifkin's practice, I hope I may see you sometimes. It is not far from here, is it, to the town pump?" Esther laughed. "No, but I do not live out here. I only teach here. We live in town, or almost in.
Pearl powder, lavishly used, is not becoming, especially when it sifts into multitudes of fine lines; nor can powder or anything else brighten a dull, yellowing skin which in health would still be delicately clear and firm. But the dulled eyes and the faded face were only the symptoms of the real change in Mary Coombe. The thing itself lay deeper.
So it revealed itself to her that it was he this ugly one who had done it, and hatred surged up in her soul. It was actually in the eyes she raised to his face, and Coombe saw it as he had seen the sidelong glance and he wondered what it meant. "Shake hands with Lord Coombe," Feather instructed. "If you can make a curtsey, make one."
Gareth-Lawless and he had heard more stories of her household, her loveliness and Lord Coombe than he had time to remember. He had, of course, heard the unsavoury rumours of the child who was being brought up for some nefarious object. As he knew Lord Coombe rather well he did not believe stories about him which went beyond a certain limit.
The Coombe Prior matters were set in a better train, the preliminary arrangements about the curacy were made, and Guy had hopes it would be his friend Mr. Wellwood's title for Orders. There was no time to write to Hollywell, or rather Mr.
Coombe looked doubtful, hesitated once more, but finally turned away without speaking. As she went, she cast a careless glance at Aunt Amy, who stood just within the kitchen doorway, a curiously watchful look in her usually expressionless eyes. "Berries all ready, Auntie," said Esther cheerfully. "What's the matter with me as a Saturday Help?" But Aunt Amy did not smile as she usually did.
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