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"My name is Grant Thornton. I am the son of Rev. John Thornton, who is minister in Colebrook." "So you are a minister's son. I have always heard that minister's sons are apt to be wild," said the girl, smiling mischievously. "I am an exception," said Grant, demurely. "I am ready to believe it," returned his companion.
I felt the ground from time to time, but could not be sure of the tracks with my fingers; I was not a trained scout, like Colebrook or Doolittle. We wriggled deeper into the tangle. Something stirred once or twice. It was not far from me. I was uncertain whether it was HIM Sebastian or a Kaffir earth-hog, the animal which seemed likeliest to have made the burrows.
She carried an ostentatiously large Prayer-book; and she looked at Naomi as only a jealous woman of middle age can look at a younger and prettier woman than herself. "Prayers, Miss Colebrook," she said in her sourest manner. She paused, and noticed me standing under the window. "Prayers, Mr. Lefrank," she added, with a look of devout pity, directed exclusively to my address.
Lefrank; and for a reason, sir, which you don't suspect." "Thank you for the compliment you pay me, Miss Colebrook, whatever the reason may be." She took no notice of my reply; she steadily pursued her own train of thought. "I guess you may do some good, sir, in this wretched house," the girl went on, with her eyes still earnestly fixed on my face.
Garrard, in a letter to Lord Deputy Strafford written in 1633, says: "Sir Edward Coke was said to be dead, all one morning in Westminster Hall, this term, insomuch that his wife got her brother, Lord Wimbledon, to post with her to Stoke, to get possession of that place; but beyond Colebrook they met with one of his physicians coming from him, who told her of his much amendment, which made them also return to London; some distemper he had fallen into for want of sleep, but is now well again."
There, Mis' Colebrook, here's your tray all ready." And Mrs. Colebrook, without knowing exactly how it happened, found herself out in the hall with the tray in her hands. "How's Keith?" It was Monday morning, and as usual Mrs. McGuire, seeing Susan in the clothes-yard, had come out, ostensibly to hang out her own clothes, in reality to visit with Susan while she was hanging out hers.
Staines, which is . . . . 15 Colebrook is from Hounslow 5 Uxbridge . . . . . . . . . 15 From London to Bushey, the Old Street-way 10 Barnet, or near it . . . . 9 Waltham Cross, in Ware Road 11 Bow . . . . . . . . . 2 == 67
At Colebrook Dale also she spent some days with an elderly cousin, Priscilla Hannah Gurney, cousin to the Earlham Gurneys by both father and mother, her father being Joseph Gurney and her mother Christiana Barclay. Being left by her father alone for some days with this cousin, the influence of the visit was very powerful on her.
He therefore took long walks into the country. Neither his conversation nor writings afforded evidence that he had done so. It is not easy, therefore, to determine what the special attractions were that drew him out of London, which he loved, into the adjoining country, where his walks oftenest lay. At the time of Lamb's deliverance from office labor, he was living in Colebrook Row.
Still with the eager light on her face, Susan reached for the money. "Thank you, oh, thank you! An' it will go quite a ways, won't it? for Keith, I mean. The " But with sudden sharpness Mrs. Colebrook interrupted her.
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