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At early dawn they passed across the broad, sluggish, reed-girt stream men, horses, and baggage in the flat ferry barges and so journeyed on through the fresh morning air past Exbury to Lepe. Topping the heathy down, they came of a sudden full in sight of the old sea-port a cluster of houses, a trail of blue smoke, and a bristle of masts.
Truck knowing the river well, we ran on until we came to an anchor off the village of Exbury. Here it was thought safer to bring up, and proceed the rest of the distance in the boat. The river above Exbury becomes very narrow, and we might have got becalmed, or, what would have been worse, we might have stuck on the mud.
He saw that she was not yet out of the elusive mood; not yet to be treated presumingly; and he was correspondingly careful to tranquillize her. His assertion had seemed to impress her somewhat. "I had no idea you came so often," she said. "How far do you come from?" "From Exbury.
"Anybody would have done it for you," replied Winterborne, with as much matter-of-fact as he could summon. "About my getting to Exbury?" she said. "I have been thinking," responded Giles, with tender deference, "that you had better stay where you are for the present, if you wish not to be caught.
She added two dramas, Rienzi , and Foscari, Atherton and other Tales , and Recollections of a Literary Life, and d. at her cottage at Swallowfield, much beloved for her benevolent and simple character, as well as valued for her intellectual powers. Historian, e.s. of John M. of Exbury, Hants, descended from an old Northumbrian family, was b. in London, and ed. at Cheam School and Oxf.
"Long tears upon their faces, waxen white With extreme sad delight." He broke the silence by saying in a whisper, "Come in." "No, no, Giles!" she answered, hurriedly, stepping yet farther back from the door. "I am passing by and I have called on you I won't enter. Will you help me? I am afraid. I want to get by a roundabout way to Sherton, and so to Exbury.
This incident serves to remind me of an experience I had one evening in King's Copse, an immense wood of oak and pine in the New Forest near Exbury. It was growing dark when I heard on or close to the ground, some twenty to thirty yards before me, a low, wailing cry, resembling the hunger-cry of the young, long-eared owl.
He passed a month or two of great misery at Exbury, the place to which he had retired quite as much misery indeed as Grace, could she have known of it, would have been inclined to inflict upon any living creature, how much soever he might have wronged her. Then a sudden hope dawned upon him; he wondered if her affirmation were true.
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