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Updated: June 8, 2025
There was quite a little meeting, in fact, to arrange the details of the day after to-morrow's choir treat. A number of upper-class parishioners, she found, were anxious to embrace this opportunity of visiting Harchester, and inspecting the Cathedral and other sights of that historic city, under learned escort.
Dons, head-masters, the pedagogic and professorial tribe generally, he had long taken in his stride quite unabashed. Church dignitaries, too, left him saucily cool. For so at least he argued was not his elder brother, Pontifex, private chaplain to the Bishop of Harchester?
A pious offering of incense, this, to the pleasant memory of that excellent scholar and devoted amateur of letters, his great-uncle, Thomas Clarkson Verity, whose society and conversation awakened the literary sense in him as a schoolboy, on holiday from Harchester, now nearly five decades ago.
Maskall, of Harchester, whose advice in respect of cardiac trouble was wide sought. He had, however, but just launched the question when Hordle entered and, walking to the head of the table, addressed Damaris. "Sir Charles desires me to say he will be glad to see you, miss, when you are at liberty," he told her in muffled accents.
As to the impending parochial invasion of Harchester during the earlier stages of dinner Damaris hardly gave it a second thought, being still under the empire of impressions very far removed from anything in the nature of choir treats.
For with the exception of Lady Hermione Twells widow of a once Colonial Governor and the Honourable Mrs. Callowgas née de Brett, relict of a former Bishop of Harchester, they were but scratch pack these local guests of hers. Soon, however, a scheme of putting that discovery to use broke in on her musings. The old friendship must, she feared, be counted dead.
Barring the absence of the extra brake, which had caused and for this she could not be sorry since didn't it justify her "attitude" towards her recalcitrant ex-pupil? some inconvenient overcrowding in transit to and from the station, and barring the rain, which set in between five and six o'clock, the expedition to Harchester passed off with considerable éclat.
Not via Marychurch to Harchester, well understood, shepherded by Theresa Bilson, the members of the Deadham Church choir and their supporters; but for travel upon the grand scale, with all its romance and enlargement of experience, its possible dangers and certain hardships, as the author of Eöthen had known it and her father, for that matter, had known it in earlier days too.
I am thankful, Sir Charles, I am grateful the more so that I have the happiness of knowing I owe the consideration with which I am treated, in Deadham, entirely to you. Yes, yes," she cried in rising exaltation, "I do not deny that I went to Harchester yesterday went Dr.
For how much had happened since the day of that choir-treat, at Harchester, which marked her deposition, the day of Damaris' sleep in the sunshine and awakening in the driving wet out on the Bar. The day wherein so much began, and so much ended, slashed across and across with an extravagance of lasting joy and lasting pain!
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