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Again, passing over Victoria Park that pleasant oasis in a desert of houses and bending round towards the north, we may ask where are the fields; and may wait until 'echo answers, Where. Hackney and Homerton, Clapton and Dalston, Shacklewell and Newington, not only have the houses ranged themselves closely along the main roads to these villages, but have filled up nearly all the vacant ground between those roads.
This commonplace story had been, it appeared, implicitly credited by Captain Dalston; and Violet Dalston and Henry Grainger were united in holy wedlock not at the village church near where Captain Dalston resided, but in one of the Leeds churches. The witnesses were the bride's father and sister, and a Mr. Bilston, a neighbor.
A very intelligent fellow is Bilston: he was present at the marriage, you remember; and a glorious witness, if he had only something of importance to depose to; powdered hair and a pigtail, double chin, and six feet in girth at least; highly respectable capital witness, very only, unfortunately, he can only testify that a person calling himself Grainger married Violet Dalston; not much in that!"
Then again, there is the story of the 'bus that went mad, just as it was leaving its burrow at Dalston. It got the idea that the kindly public was its enemy. You should have seen the astonishment of Liverpool Street and the Bank as it rushed by them. Old ladies about to ask it whether it went to Clapham its label said it was bound for Barnes stood aghast, and their questions died on their lips.
The Dalston Weekly has taken my short story, and given me ten pounds for it. However, you must take the bad with the good; my poor three-decker has come back on my hands." Katherine uttered a low exclamation. "I did hope they would have taken it! and what miserable pay for that bright, pretty story! Mother, I cannot believe that the novel will fail. Do, do try Santley & Son!
The lady and her son departed, and I turned again to the almost forgotten "case." Three weeks had nearly glided by, and still no tidings of Mr. Ferret. Mrs. Grainger, and her sister Emily Dalston, a very charming person, had called repeatedly; but as I of course had nothing to communicate, they were still condemned to languish under the heart-sickness caused by hope deferred.
Bewildered, and suspecting he hardly knew what, Captain Dalston, in defiance of young Grainger's oft-iterated injunctions, determined to call at his father's residence, which he had always understood to be in Leadenhall Street.
"But is he ready to join at once?" "I had a sort of vision of my lodgings in the North of London, too, beyond Dalston, away to the devil and all my gear scattered about, and my empty sea-chest somewhere in an outhouse the good people I was staying with had at the end of their sooty strip of garden. I heard the Shipping Master say in the coolest sort of way: "He'll sleep on board to-night."
"To GEORGE WILLIAM FOOTE, of No. 9 South Crescent, Bedford Square, Middlesex; WILLIAM JAMES RAMSEY, of No. 28 Stonecutter Street, in the City of London, and No. 20 Brownlow Street, Dalston, Middlesex; and HENRY ARTHUR KEMP, of No. 28 Stonecutter Street, aforesaid, and No. 15 Harp Alley, Farringdon Street, London, E.C.
I'd a pretty good idea where she 'ad gorn; and it wasn't Dalston. "Come in and 'ave 'arf a pint fust," I ses. "No; I shall be late," he ses, hurrying off. I went in and 'ad a glass by myself, and stood there so long thinking of Mrs.
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