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Updated: June 2, 2025
I watched, with as much attention as my own agitation permitted me to command, the effect produced on the parties concerned. It was evident that our friend, Peter Peebles, had unwarily let out something which altered the sentiments of Justice Foxley and his clerk towards Mr. Herries, with whom, until he was known and acknowledged under that name, they had appeared to be so intimate.
Foxley, by the unwillingness of provincial magistrates to interfere in what is now considered an invidious pursuit of the unfortunate.
"I am sure my brother and I will be exceedingly glad to go and see you at the Rectory. About church I will say that we never go very regularly anywhere, but when it isn't too hot, too hot, you know, or too cold, or anything of that sort, I am sure we'll try to turn up there as well." The rector, smiled indulgently. No call to be hard on the Mr. Foxleys, of Foxley Manor.
I said; "I don't mean to complain indeed, I have nothing to complain of, for Foxley tells me you are the steadiest and most orderly hand he has under him; but the fact is, I should like to make friends with you all, and see that no one is treated badly. And somehow or other I found out that you were not disposed to feel friendly towards the rest, and I was sorry for it.
George Foxley to drink tea out of the cups on summer afternoons on the verandah of the little cottage looking up into the splendid vault of the mighty oak, or when Mr. Joseph would wind the Indian shawl round his silly head in the winter evenings when the draughts of cold air would rush in through the thin walls.
A sign swung out from the verandah. "The Ipswich Inn, by M. Cox," said the younger Mr. Foxley. Then he looked at his brother. His brother looked at him. They understood one another at once, and Joseph pulled up in good style at the door. The hostler, dressed in old corduroy and with a fiddle under his arm, sprang forward to assist them. He dropped his H's. "Delightful," cried Mr. Joseph.
"They only give you a faint idea of what it is. It is Tudor you know do you know what Tudor is, Mrs. Foxley and all red brick, weathered all colors, and terraced, with lots of little windows and some big ones with stained glass in them, and urns on the terrace, and a rookery, and an old avenue of poplars, haunted too, and so on, and so on there's no end to it, Mildred!
It but remained for Charlotte Dexter to take her revenge in her way. Going very seldom out of her house, and never visiting at the Inn she was really very ignorant of the doings of either Mr. George or Mr. Joseph Foxley.
"It is a somewhat ah unusual name. The only other time I remember meeting with the name was once let me see it was a meet, I think, at Foxley Manor, in Derbyshire it was, and a very beautiful place." "In Nottinghamshire," said Mr. Joseph smiling. "Yes, that is or was our home. My father still resides there." "Indeed?" said Mr. . "Is it possible! And you have come out here?
Young man eh I beg to know the name of your father and mother? This was galling a wound that has festered for years, and I did not endure the question so patiently as those which preceded it; but replied, 'I demand, in my turn, to know if I am before an English Justice of the Peace? 'His worship, Squire Foxley, of Foxley Hall, has been of the quorum these twenty years, said Master Nicholas.
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