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Updated: June 29, 2025
She became very quiet. "Oh, she shouldn't have come to Little Beeding," she said in a low voice, staring now upon the ground. It was to herself she spoke, but Dick answered her, and his voice rose to a challenge. "Why shouldn't she? Here she was born, here she was known. What else should she do but come back to Little Beeding and hold her head high? I respect her pride for doing it."
Pettifer. "You actually Oh!" Indignation robbed her of words. She gasped. "Yes, I do," continued Dick calmly. "I want you to come one night and dine at Little Beeding. We'll persuade Mrs. Ballantyne to come too." It was a bold move, and even in his eyes it had its risks for Stella. To bring Mrs. Pettifer and her together was, so it seemed to him, to mix earth with delicate flame.
The only thing was that there was no place nearer than Beeding where they could meet, and she could no longer walk so far. She would have to give up meeting. "It seems to me a strange taste to want to kneel down with a lot of little shop-keepers.... Is this where you kneel?" he said, pointing to the long deal table. "The place is a regular little Bethel."
She went up to her room and turned on the light, and sat down in her chair just as she had done after her first dinner at Little Beeding. She had foreseen then all the troubles which had since beset her, but she had seemed to have passed through them until this afternoon. Over there in the library of the big house was Henry Thresk the stranger. Very likely he was at this moment writing to her.
Yet he had set out with a vague reluctance to Little Beeding; and once his motor-car had passed Hindhead and dipped to the weald of Sussex the reluctance had grown to a definite regret that he should once more have come into this country.
Ballantyne comes back from her trial in Bombay to make her home again at Little Beeding. Hazlewood champions her not for her sake, but for the sake of his theories. It pleases his vanity. Now he can prove that he is not as others are." Mr. Hazlewood did not relish this merciless analysis of his character. He twisted in his chair, he uttered a murmur of protest.
His legs, his arms, his face, even his hair, unless his son in the Coldstream happened to be at home at the time, were long. "Is your father mad?" Mr. Chubble once asked of Dick Hazlewood. The two men had met in the broad street of Great Beeding at midday, and the elder one, bubbling with indignation, had planted himself in front of Dick. "Mad?" Dick repeated reflectively.
It is proposed, however, to leave a more particular description of this country to that portion of our longer route to Worthing viâ Washington, for which we must return to Shoreham, and now to take the road which runs by the Adur to Upper Beeding.
He remained silent for a few moments waiting for any rejoinder, and getting none he continued: "There's something else I wanted to speak to you about." "Yes?" "The date of our marriage." The old man moved sharply in his chair. "There's no hurry, Richard. You must find out how it will affect your career. You have been so long at Little Beeding where we hear very little from the outer world.
The Governour, seeing us come back with a considerable summe for our own particular, and seeing that his time was expired and that he was to goe away, made use of that excuse to doe us wrong & to enrich himselfe with the goods that wee had so dearly bought, and by our meanes wee made the country to subsist, that without us had beene, I beleeve, oftentimes quite undone and ruined, and the better to say at his last beeding, no castors, no ship, & what to doe without necessary commodities.
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