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A key was heard at the outer door; the door sagged a little in common with everything about the house and a tenant passed into the Eyrie. Enter Paul Clitheroe, sole scion of that melancholy house whose foundations had sunk under him, and left him, at the age of five and twenty, master of himself, but slave to fortune.
It was now the autumn, and early in September announcements had been made of a series of autumnal lectures to be given by the Rev. Theophilus Londonderry; Rob Clitheroe, Esquire; James Whalley, Esquire; and other distinguished lecturers, at New Zion. In the list were papers on "The Duty of Novel Reading," "Henrik Ibsen," "A Morris Wall-Paper," "The Nude in Art," and "The Darwinian Theory," by Mr.
I wish good old-fashioned bad temper was still the word for highly strung and nervy people. ... I am longing for beautiful things, music, flowers, fine thoughts.... La Panne. 25 February. At last I have succeeded in getting away from Dunkirk! The Duchess of Sutherland brought me here in her car. Last night I dined with Mrs. Clitheroe.
My crop was only 32 bushels to the acre of 60 lbs. to the bushel; last year the crop, as I have said before, was 50 bushels of the same weight. To the same. CLITHEROE, 7th March, 1848.
BLACKBURN, May 16th, 1818. CLITHEROE, October 20th, 1859. "A Young Inquirer" asks what is the cause of that appearance so often met with in the autumn, resembling spider-webs.
On the appearance of the first, I was strongly prompted to reply to it myself, but rejoiced to find him in much better hands. I remain, Sir, Yours very truly, WILLIAM AYRTON. CLITHEROE, 4th February, 1854.
One day it suddenly took shape; the whole thing seemed to her perfectly plain sailing; if Clitheroe had launched her upon that venturesome sea, she had suddenly found herself equipped and able to sail without the aid of any one. She had written to Paul of her joy in this new discovery. Before her loomed the misty outlines of fair far islands; she was about to set forth to people these.
Mine uncle examined the watch with kindly eyes; with a pathetic shake of his head, a pitiful lifting of his bushy eyebrows, a commiserating shrug of his fat shoulders, and a petulant pursing of his plump lips as much as to say, "Well, it is a pity, but we must make the best of it, you know" he told Clitheroe he would advance him ten dollars on the watch.
There were no secrets from him now; every detail was discovered; and so having gilded for a moment the mossy shingles of the Eyrie he stole into the room where Paul Clitheroe passed most of his waking hours, and through the curtain of ivy and geraniums that screened the conservatory from the eyes of the curious world, and where Paul was at this moment sleeping the sleep of the just.
Once more she wrote, but not to Clitheroe; she wrote to a friend she had known when she was in the far West, one who knew Paul well and was always eager for news of him. The letter, or a part of it, ran as follows: "Of course such weather as this is not to be shut out-of-doors; we feed on it; we drink it in; we bathe in it, body and soul. Ah, my friend, know a June in Venice before you die!
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