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Updated: June 10, 2025
His purpose might be as strong; but a man when he wishes to use burning words should use them while the words are on fire. John Gordon had a friend at Alresford, or rather an acquaintance, on whom he had determined to call, unless circumstances, as they should occur at Croker's Hall, should make him too ecstatic in his wish for any such operation.
She had known my father before his marriage. We had certainly never met. I left Alresford at three years old. She made an appointment to spend a day here next year, having with her a daughter, apparently by a first husband. Also she had the same host of recollections of Louis Napoleon, remembered the Emperor, as Premier Consul, and La Reine Hortense as Mlle. de Beauharnais.
Soon after this it was rumoured in the neighbourhood of Alresford, that the Dowager Lady Tichborne had acknowledged the stranger as her lost son Roger; that she had determined to allow the repentant wanderer £1000 a year; and that he was going to take a house at Croydon pending his entering into the possession of the Tichborne estates.
"Mr Whittlestaff is going to dine at Little Alresford, and intends to take me with him." "Oh yes; that's all very well. He'd have left you behind if he'd been of my way of thinking. Mr Gordon here, and Mr Gordon there! I wonder what's Mr Gordon! He ain't no better than an ordinary miner. Coals and diamonds is all one to me; I'd rather have the coals for choice."
He was a man who considered that by doing an outrage to God's work an offence would be committed against God which admitted of no repentance. He must live through it to the last. But he must live as a man who was degraded. He had made his effort, but his effort would be known to all Alresford. Mr Montagu Blake would take care of that.
I see," said Hallin, with disappointment, "she will only take care he doesn't beat her which I gather from your manner doesn't matter. And her politics?" "Lord Alresford was left out of the Ministry," said Marcella slily. "He and Lady Selina thought it a pity." "Alresford Alresford? Why, of course!
The Rev Montagu Blake was curate of Little Alresford, a parish, though hardly to be called a village, lying about three miles from the town. The vicar was a feeble old gentleman who had gone away to die in the Riviera, and Mr Blake had the care of souls to himself. He was a man to whom his lines had fallen in pleasant places.
Was there ever a better specimen of feigned simplicity than he? 'Bogle, cries the defendant, after all those years of estrangement, 'is that you? 'Yes, Sir Roger, answered Bogle; how do you do? "'Do you remember giving me a pipe o' baccy? asks a poor country greenhorn down at Alresford. 'Yes, answers the Claimant. 'Then you're the man, says the greenhorn.
Carlyle; but I well remember the interest which Lady Ashburton seemed to take in his praise, how my enthusiasm seemed to please her, and how Carlyle and his works were topics she was never tired of discussing. The South Western line to Alresford was not then made, and I had to post part of the way from London to The Grange.
The main road winds on to pleasant Alresford, where Mary Russell Mitford was born. The principal attraction of the town is a large lake, made by Bishop de Lucy in the twelfth century as an aid to the navigation of the Itchen.
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