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Updated: May 9, 2025
While these proceedings were going on, the fate of Clare's poems had been decided; unknown, however, to the poet. Mr. Drury, after the very unfavourable judgment of the Rev. Mr. Twopenny, resolved upon sending his odd bundle of verses to London, to get the final opinion of his experienced relative, Mr. John Taylor, the publisher of Fleet Street. Mr.
He had another vision of Simmons; it was two hundred and fifty dollars that the latter wanted, must have, to-morrow. But Simmons swiftly faded before Clare's need, the pressure of sickness. "She couldn't go down in the stage," he muttered, "the shaking would kill her before ever she got there." "I'll drive her to Stenton, Gordon," the doctor volunteered, "if you've got the money handy."
They had moved from the carriage to the church in majestic procession, watched by an admiring cluster of townspeople. He had liked Clare's fine bearing and Robin's carriage; there was no doubt that they supported family traditions worthily, but he felt that, in the eyes of the world, he scarcely counted at all.
She clasped her hands above her head, fell on her knees at Miss Clare's feet, and looked up in her face without uttering a word. "I will speak to Mr. Walton," said Miss Clare; and left her. The next morning she was discharged, at the request of my husband, who brought her home with him. Sympathy with the mother-passion in her bosom had melted away all my resentment.
It was Clare's intention to stop at least a week with his kind host at Chiswick, but an awkward circumstance occasioned his departure at the end of a few days.
Peter's no ordinary mortal I wonder, now and again, whether Clare's worth it all." But this year seemed to silence all her fears. The happiness of that little house shone through Chelsea. "Oh, we're dining with the Westcotts to-night they'll cheer us up they're always so happy" "Oh! did you see Clare Westcott? I never saw any one so radiant."
Clare's touch was on his arm. "If I'm right you WILL let me help?" He laid his hand on hers without speaking, and she went on: "It will take a lot of money: all these law-suits do. Besides, she'd be ashamed to sell him cheap. You must be ready to give her anything she wants. And I've got a lot saved up money of my own, I mean..." "Your own?"
It did not occur to him that he was himself the cause of the outrage, and that his friend had suffered for him. Clare's head ached a good deal, but he polished the boy's boots. Then he made him try again on his boots, when, warmed by his rage, he did a little better. Clare gave him another penny, and went to the bank. Marway was not there, nor did he show himself for a day or two.
Angel looked round for Mrs Crick's black-puddings, which he had directed to be nicely grilled as they did them at the dairy, and of which he wished his father and mother to appreciate the marvellous herbal savours as highly as he did himself. "Ah! you are looking for the black-puddings, my dear boy," observed Clare's mother.
Clare's estimate of his son was frankly truthful, Magdalen loved him with all the passionate warmth of her nature, and when Frank, in order to escape being sent to a business appointment in China, proposed marriage to her, she accepted him joyfully. She urged her father to consent to their immediate union. "I must consult Frank's father, of course," he said, in conclusion.
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