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Updated: June 18, 2025
Cailsham was too small a place, the little set in which her mother moved too narrow and confined to ever hope of avoiding it. This must end her life at Cailsham. With the readiness of this realization, then, why had she told? Cry the woman a fool! She was a fool. Most good women are. But just as the matter is vital in the mind of a man, so is it in the woman the crucial test of honour.
Can you have a more generous hospitality than that?" Sally laughed again, and then Janet launched her boat of enterprise. "You're fond of kiddies, aren't you, Sally?" she asked suddenly. A tender look crept into Sally's eyes. "You know I am," she replied. "Well why don't you go down to your people at Cailsham and help them for a little while in the school?" The look of tenderness died out.
There is a little story attached to it one of those slight, slender threads of incident that go to form a shadow here or a light there in the broad tapestry of the whole. The Rev. Samuel Bishop was rector of the parish church in the little town of Cailsham, in Kent. This was Sally's father.
"Love. If you want anything at all. There were some of the little boys down at Cailsham who were loathsome: horrid little wretches, who'd put out their tongues at you." "Sons of gentlemen," said Janet. "One of them spat at me once when I was giving him a music lesson. You couldn't want anything from them. But I could almost have believed that Maurie was mine." "Then why don't you go and see him?
Into their minds she instilled the knowledge that, of all professions, the Church takes the highest rank in the social scale, and though in the world itself they might have found that hard to believe, yet in the little town of Cailsham Mrs. Bishop had discovered her capacity for draining from her husband's parishioners a certain social deference and respect. By persuading the Rev.
Samuel to utilize his priestly influence upon the declining years of an old lady of title in the neighbourhood, Mrs. Bishop had stolen her way into the very best society which Cailsham had to offer. And Sally was the only one of her children who did not thoroughly appreciate it.
"You thought I'd be jealous?" "Yes; I should have been." "And now you've come up to London," said Mrs. Priestly, straining back the tears in her throat. "What are you going to do? Are you going back to Cailsham?" "No I'm not going back." "Then will you come with us? The rooms I've taken are not very comfortable but " "No, I won't come with you thank you for asking me.
"Oh yes in a sort of a way. They said that they thought the rectorship of Cailsham was rather too responsible a post for him. They asked him to accept the other in such a way that it would have been hard to refuse. Of course, they couldn't actually turn him out. But mother hated him for going. It was soon after we left there that I came up to you in London. They were getting so poor.
But to entertain Lady Bray; to be even a friend of her ladyship was, in Cailsham in those days, a key to the secret chamber of social success. And Mrs. Bishop held it. The Rev. Samuel himself gave her ladyship a copy of the Holy Bible, bound in the best Russian leather, with various texts marked, which had never failed to bring her comfort when intoned in the meek monotony of his gentle voice.
Then they talk of the fruit seasons that are past, and the fruit seasons that are to come. The lights burn out early in the windows, and by ten o'clock the little town is asleep. This is Cailsham.
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