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Updated: June 10, 2025
And he went out with her, day after day, showing her all those pretty haunts among the downs which are to be found in the neighbourhood of Alresford. This did well for a time, and Mr Whittlestaff thought that he was progressing. But he had not as yet quite made up his mind that the attempt should be made at all.
Every root and weed which grows in every field; every dead leaf which falls in the highwoods of many a parish, from the Grange and Woodmancote round to Farleigh and Preston, and so to Brighton and the Alresford downs; ay, every atom of manure which the farmers put on the land foul enough then, but pure enough before it touches me each of these, giving off a tiny atom of what men call carbonic acid, melts a tiny grain of chalk, and helps to send it down through the solid hill by one of the million pores and veins which at once feed and burden my springs.
I suppose he went to her to be comforted, and thought he'd pull something off, anyway! Why she took him! But of course she's no chicken, and old Alresford may die any day. And about the bribery business I suppose he made her think him an injured innocent. Anyway, he talked to Willie, when they got to his rooms, like a raving lunatic, and you know he was always such a cool hand.
"Mr Gordon!" said Mary. "He was here this morning with Mr Whittlestaff, but I know nothing of him since." "He hasn't gone back to London?" "I don't know where he has gone. He slept in Alresford last night, but I know nothing of him since." "He sent his bag by the boy at the inn down to the railway station when he came up here. I found his bag there, but heard nothing of him.
Urania would have liked to leave Ida out of the business, but she smiled sweetly at Mr. Wendover's speech, and they all three strolled to the end of the lane, which ascended all the way, till they found themselves upon a fine upland, with a lovely view of woodland and valley stretching away towards Alresford.
It was quite a tragedy, was Catherine Bailey; and one as would stir your heart up if you was to hear it. Catherine Bailey was a young woman. But I'm not going to tell you the story; only that she was no more fit for Mr Whittlestaff than any of them stupid young girls that walks about the streets gaping in at the shop-windows in Alresford.
The little village thus founded, certainly still existed in the time of the Conquest, and such it would always have remained but for Godfrey de Lucy, Bishop of Winchester, who, among his many achievements, numbers this chiefly that he made the Itchen navigable not only from Southampton to Winchester but here also in its headwaters, and this by means of the great reservoir, known as Alresford Pond, into which he gathered the waters of many streams to supply his navigation.
No doubt he had heard the name on the previous evening; but Hall is common, and had been forgotten. "Who is Mr Hall? Why, he is the squire of Little Alresford, and my patron. I forget you haven't heard that Mr Harbottle is dead at last. Of course I am very sorry for the old gentleman in one sense; but it is such a blessing in another.
Between Christmas day and New Year's eve of 1866, there arrived in Alresford a mysterious stranger, who put up at the Swan Hotel in that little town, and said that his name was Taylor. He was a man of bulk and eccentric attire.
Poetess and novelist, b. at Alresford, Hants, dau. of a physician, without practice, selfish and extravagant, who ran through three fortunes, his own, his wife's, and his daughter's, and then lived on the industry of the last. After a vol. of poems which attracted little notice, she produced her powerful tragedy, Julian.
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