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Updated: June 15, 2025
Catharine left the cottage that afternoon, and began to walk home to Eastthorpe. She thought, as she went along, of Phoebe's confession. She had loved Tom, but had reached the point of perfect acquiescence in any award of destiny, provided only he could be happy.
Cardew married a Berdoe, it will be remembered, and this Robert Berdoe was a wealthy wholesale ironmonger, who carried on business in Southwark. "You had better leave Eastthorpe, Mr. Catchpole, and take your father with you. Are you in want of any money?" "No, sir, thank you; I have saved a little. I cannot speak very well, Mr. Cardew; you know I cannot; I cannot say to you what I ought."
If you do not, you will be ill too. I will stay with Phoebe, at least for to-night, if anybody can be found to go to Eastthorpe to tell my mother I shall not be home." "Miss Catharine! to think of such a thing! I'm sure you shan't," replied Mrs. Crowhurst; but Catharine persisted, and a message was sent by Phoebe's brother, who, although so young, knew the way perfectly well, and could be trusted.
Bellamy observed to his wife that he had not seen Catharine looking better or in better spirits for months. Mrs. Bellamy said nothing, but on the following morning Catharine was certainly not so well. It was intended that she should go home that day, but it was wet, and a message was sent to Eastthorpe to explain why she did not come. The next day she was worse, and Mrs.
Between Eaton Socon and Huntingdon one of the York coaches was fairly buried, and the passengers, after being near death's door with cold and hunger, made their way to a farmhouse which had great difficulty in supplying them with provisions. Coals rose in Abchurch and Eastthorpe to four pounds a ton, and just before the frost broke there were not ten tons in both places taken together.
One of these houses was even older, black-timbered, gabled, plastered, the sole remains, saving the church, of Eastthorpe as it was in the reign of Henry the Eighth. Just beyond the church, going from the bridge, the High Street was so wide that the houses on either side were separated by a space of over two hundred feet. This elongated space was the market-place.
It was a bright, hot, August Saturday in the market town of Eastthorpe, in the eastern Midlands, in the year 1840. Eastthorpe lay about five miles on the western side of the Fens, in a very level country on the banks of a river, broad and deep, but with only just sufficient fall to enable its long-lingering waters to reach the sea.
To think of your coming over from Eastthorpe to see me, and after what happened between me and Mrs. Furze! Miss Catharine, I didn't mean to be rude, but that Orkid Jim is a liar, and it's my belief that he's at the bottom of the mischief with Tom. You haven't heard of Tom, I suppose, Miss?" "Yes, he is in London. He is doing very well." "Oh, I am very thankful.
Butcher's history cannot be told here. So much by way of digression on Eastthorpe society. Mrs. Furze carried her point as usual. As for Catharine, she did not object, for there was nothing in Eastthorpe attractive to her. The Limes, Abchurch, was the "establishment" chosen. It was kept by the Misses Ponsonby, Abchurch being a large village five miles farther eastward.
Fenmarket is entirely in the Fens, and all the roads that lead out of it are alike level, monotonous, straight, and flanked by deep and stagnant ditches. The river, also, here is broader and slower; more reluctant than it is even at Eastthorpe to hasten its journey to the inevitable sea.
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