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Updated: June 25, 2025
Has your brother ever sent you any of the fritillaries? 'What? snake-heads? Oh, boxes full of them. They're lovely flowers, but not lovelier than our own Devonshire daffodils. You should see a Devonshire water-meadow in April! Why don't you come down some time to Calcombe Pomeroy? It's the dearest little peaceful seaside corner in all England.
'No; he's down in Devonshire, my brother Ernest writes me. 'What, at Dunbude? What's Oswald doing there? 'Oh dear no; not at Dunbude: the peerage hasn't yet adopted him at a place called Calcombe Pomeroy, where it seems he lives. Ernest has gone down there from Exmoor for a fortnight's holiday.
Most of them were from her own personal friends: a few were from the gentry of the surrounding neighbourhood: but there were two handsomer than the rest: they came from outside the narrow little circle of Calcombe Pomeroy society. 'A country grocer's daughter! she said to herself: 'the sister of a great mathematical scholar! How very original of him to think of marrying a grocer's daughter!
While these things were happening in the Bourne Close, palsied old Miss Luttrell, mumbling and grumbling inarticulately to herself, was slowly tottering down the steep High Street of Calcombe Pomeroy, on her way to the village grocer's. She shambled in tremulously to Mrs.
The beauty of Israel is slain upon thy high places. From Calcombe Pomeroy Ernest had returned, not to Dunbude, but to meet the Exmoor party in London. There he had managed somehow he hardly knew how himself to live through a whole season without an explosion in his employer's family.
'That may be true, Edie darling, Ernest answered, not caring to let her know that he had overheard a specimen of the Calcombe squirearchy, 'but in any case I don't want you to be troubled now, either with old Miss Luttrell or any other bitter old busybodies. I want to speak seriously to you about a very different project. Just look at this advertisement.
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