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"We left London before your book arrived, but I sent for it, and Mrs. Lewes has been reading it aloud to me the last few evenings. It has charmed us both, and we regret that so good a scheme, so well carried out, should in the nature of the case be one doomed to meet with small public response. No reader worth having can read it without interest and profit, but il s'agit de trouver des lecteurs.
In any case, a beacon fire from a square tower is as effectual as from a round one. Piddinghoe has many associations with the smuggling days which have given birth to some quaint sayings, as "Pidd'nhoo they dig for moonshine," "At Pidd'nhoo they dig for smoke," etc., but we fail to see the point in "Magpies are shod at Pidd'nhoo." Seven miles from Lewes stands the rather mean port of Newhaven.
Threshing my brains for any sort of tie with George Eliot, I remembered having often stayed at Oxford as a young woman, when Jowett of Balliol was entertaining her and Mr Lewes, in his own home.
The direct route to Brighton for pedestrians is by a footpath which leaves Lewes at the west end of Southover Street; this leads to the summit of Newmarket Hill and thence to the Racecourse and Kemp Town. No villages are passed and but few houses, and the six miles of Down, although so near a great town, are as lonely as any other six in Sussex.
"I wish I might be here to see what'll happen," said he, "but I'm going up the river to-night to see a gal and mebby won't be back again for three or four days." The next afternoon the English bark set sail as the captain promised, and that night Lewes town was awake until almost morning, gazing at a broad red glare that lighted up the sky away toward the southeast.
Half an hour later the vessels were moored to the bank, close to a wooden bridge which spanned the little river. After hunting for two days in the forests lying behind Newhaven, and in the valley in which Lewes lies, they again embarked.
Lewes sat back in his chair, took his tea-cup as though it were a fresh addition to his responsibilities, and began to talk. He talked apparently without even breathing. He began on the weather, drifted on to art and music, and was just beginning a monologue on The Novel, when William rose and crept from the room like a guilty spirit. He found Mr.
He attacked the invaders: the Highlanders were quickly repulsed and fled to their hills; the Spaniards were taken prisoners; but the Marquis of Tullibardine and the Earl of Seaforth escaped, and, retreating to the island of Lewes, again escaped to France. During twenty-six years the Marquis of Tullibardine, against whom an act of attainder was passed, remained in exile.
As he had ridden up to the house in the evening he had recognised for the first time how he no longer belonged to the place; his two years at Lewes had done their work, and he came to his home now not as a son but as a guest.
Lewes scorned the notion that circumstances govern character. He pointed to the variety of character in the governing rich class to prove the contrary.