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Updated: May 4, 2025
Flower and another gentleman; who tell us how a Scotch knight was killed basely the other day at the Fleece in Covent Garden, where there had been a great many formerly killed. So to Paul's Churchyard, and there I took the little man at Mr. Kirton's and Mr.
Hester glanced at the torn letter, which through all his fall the old man had held tightly clasped in his hand, and gave a loud cry. "Miss Ellen, come back!" she exclaimed. "My own Miss Ellen. God has heard my prayers." When Mr. Kirton's senses returned, late in the night, he found himself in his own bed.
Accustomed to the strong expressions of the countess-dowager, he passed that over. But, "going the same way that her father went;" he paused there, and tried to remember how her father did "go." All he could recollect now, indeed all he knew at the time, was, that Lord Kirton's last illness was reported to have been a lingering one.
Perhaps neither of them had completely overcome the antagonism from that time to this. A scrambling sort of life had been Lady Kirton's. The wife of a very poor and improvident Irish peer, who had died early, leaving her badly provided for, her days had been one long scramble to make both ends meet and avoid creditors.
So I away home to the office to clear my Journall for five days, and so home to supper and to bed, my father who had staid out late and troubled me thereat being come home well and gone to bed, which pleases me also. This day, coming home, Mr. Kirton's kinsman, my bookseller, come in my way; and so I am told by him that Mr.
Curiously to relate, the first person beyond the Rectory to take the illness was the man Pike. How he could have caught it was a marvel to Calne. And yet, if Lady Kirton's theory were correct, that infection was conveyed by clothes, it might be accounted for, and Clerk Gum be deemed the culprit. One evening after the clerk had been for some little time at the Rectory with Dr.
Mind you bring me over a Parisian bonnet or two or some articles of that sort. I'm nearly in rags, Kirton's as undutiful as he can be but it's that wife of his. "Your affectionate mother, "C. Kirton." The letter will give you some guide to the policy of Maude Hartledon since her marriage. She did find she had made a mistake.
Kirton's kinsman in Paul's Church Yard, he and I to a coffee-house; where I hear how there had like to have been a surprizall of Dublin by some discontented protestants, and other things of like nature; and it seems the Commissioners have carried themselves so high for the Papists that the others will not endure it.
Thence further to Westminster, thinking to have met Mrs. Martin, but could not find her, so back and called at Kirton's to borrow 10s. to pay for my ruled papers, I having not money in my pocket enough to pay for them.
The surgeon's opinion was not favourable. Captain Kirton had heart-disease beyond any doubt. His chest was weak also, the lungs not over-sound; altogether, the Honourable Robert Kirton's might be called a bad life. "Would a warmer climate do anything for him?" asked Lord Hartledon. The surgeon shrugged his shoulders. "He would be better there for some things than here.
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