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Updated: May 16, 2025
These addresses were not commonly of a kind to excite much interest, nor had the name of Mr. At the doors of the building itself was a large placard, attracting the eye by its bold inscription: "Woman: Her Place in Modern Life" so had the title been ultimately shaped. Liversedge, who had withdrawn his name. The reading-room was beset.
Liversedge and his relative allowed Glazzard to keep silence, save when he exchanged a few words with his hostess or Miss Pope. He had a look of extreme weariness; his eyes were heavy and without expression, the lines of face slack, sullen; he seemed to maintain with difficulty his upright position at the table, and his eating was only pretence. At the close of the meal he bent towards Mrs.
After all, these emancipated women are the most trustworthy, and Mrs. Wade is the best example I have yet known." When Mrs. Liversedge welcomed her sister-in-law at luncheon, she was stricken with alarm. "My dear girl, you look like a ghost! This won't do," she added, in a whisper, presently. "You must keep quiet!" But the Liversedges' house was no place for quietness.
At his own cost, he built a handsome church at Liversedge, on a hill opposite the one on which his house stood, which was the first attempt in the West Riding to meet the wants of the overgrown population, and made many personal sacrifices for his opinions, both religious and political, which were of the true old- fashioned Tory stamp.
"I suppose," added her husband, "we must be prepared for all sorts of rumours. The thing is unintelligible to people in general. Any one who knew her, and saw her those last days, can understand it only too well." "Yes," murmured Mrs. Liversedge, with sad thought fulness. She would not speak further on the subject, and Toby concluded that the mere suggestion gave her offence.
If the Tories are going to put forward such a specimen as Hugh Welwyn-Baker, a gambler, a drinker, and a profligate, I don't know, I say, who would look better opposed to him than Toby Liversedge." Mr. Chown could not restrain himself. "I fail altogether to see what Christianity has to do with politics! Christianity is all very well, but where will you find it?
His sister was reading there in solitude. "Molly, I'm going to lecture at the Institute tomorrow, vice somebody or other who can't turn up. What subject, think you?" "The Sagas, probably?" "The Sagas be blowed! 'Woman's Place in our Time, that's the title." Mrs. Liversedge laughed, and showed astonishment. "And what have you to say about her?" "Wait and see!"
There is a new Vicar, he says, whose name is Mr Liversedge, and he has quite changed things in the parish. The people are divided about him; some like him, and some do not.
"They congratulated me on my acquittal, but I can tell by their tones that there is not one of them who thoroughly believes in his heart that I am innocent." The only exception which Ned made was Mr. Cartwright, a mill owner at Liversedge.
As he passed out of the iron gates he made up his mind that the house, with necessary repairs, would do very well; and straightway he turned his steps to the office of the agent. The village of Rickstead lay at some five miles' distance from that suburb of Polterham where dwelt Mr. Toby Liversedge, Mr. Samuel Quarrier, and sundry other distinguished townsfolk.
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