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Updated: October 7, 2025
In fact, Wesley in his later years was very much alienated from what was called 'the religious world. He had received some of his severest wounds in the house of his friends. Not Warburton, nor Lavington, nor Gibson had spoken and written such hard things against him as many of the most decidedly Evangelical clergy.
"Yes, that is what she said, Josiah that you had been robbed, and that Don my boy oh, no, no, no; say it is not true." Mrs Lavington looked wildly from one to the other, but there was a dead silence, and in a few minutes the poor woman's manner had entirely changed. When she first spoke it was as the timid, shrinking, affectionate woman; now it was as the mother speaking in defence of her child.
'But I never spoke a word to you on such subjects. 'There are those, Miss Lavington, to whom a human face can speak truths too deep for books. Argemone was silent; but she understood him. Why did she not withdraw her arm a second time? In a moment more the colonel hailed them from the dog-cart and behind him came the britschka with a relay of servants.
'Pardon me, but what a question for one who believes that "God is love!" 'But the divines tell us that the love of human beings is earthly. 'How did they know? They had never tried. Oh, Miss Lavington! cannot you see that in those barbarous and profligate ages of the later empire, it was impossible for men to discern the spiritual beauty of marriage, degraded as it had been by heathen brutality?
One hour passed, no transport, two hours, no transport. We heard that our transport had gone to Lavington station by mistake, and was on the way back for us. At a quarter to three the officers and non-commissioned officers decided that we had better start and get to camp carrying our own kit bags and blankets.
Then he thought that it might, perhaps, be worth his while to trot over to Lavington in the course of the week, and make inquiries. On the Wednesday Mary Lowther was to go back to Loring. This seemed like a partial break-up of their establishment, both to the parson and his wife.
Our road now runs northward past Lavington station to Potterne, three miles from the Lavington cross roads and eleven from Westbury. This is one of the most attractive villages in Wiltshire; remarkable for its half-timbered houses of the fifteenth century, especially that known as "Porch House," purchased and restored by the late George Richmond.
"Sorry to have deserted you, but the storm has played the deuce with the wires, and I had to wait a long time before I could get a good connection. It must be blowing up for a blizzard." "Uncle Jack," young Rainer broke out, "Mr. Grisben's been lecturing me." Mr. Lavington was helping himself to terrapin. "Ah what about?" "He thinks I ought to have given New Mexico a show."
Grisben was saying, with an unexpected incisiveness of tone. Mr. Lavington laid down his spoon and smiled interrogatively. "Oh, facts what are facts? Just the way a thing happens to look at a given minute...." "You haven't heard anything from town?" Mr. Grisben persisted. "Not a syllable. So you see.... Balch, a little more of that petite marmite. Mr. Faxon... between Frank and Mr.
"I should like to telephone to Weymore," he said with dry lips. "Sorry, sir; wires all down. We've been trying the last hour to get New York again for Mr. Lavington." Faxon shot on to his room, burst into it, and bolted the door. The lamplight lay on furniture, flowers, books; in the ashes a log still glimmered. He dropped down on the sofa and hid his face.
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