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Updated: June 6, 2025
I'm all alone in my glory. Barry and the Fentons departed yesterday on their fishing trip, and Nan " "Yes. Where's Nan?" For the life of him he could not check the eager question. "She's gone off for the day with Maryon. He's driving her over to Clovelly she's never been there, you know." Sandy's heart sank. He knew the quickest route from St.
Weller, and about 1780 to Sir Thomas Spencer Wilson, in right of his wife. Her son, Sir Thomas Maryon Wilson, succeeded her, and in this line it has remained since 1818. Besides the Manor of Hampstead there is included in the borough the ancient Manor of Belsize, or Belses.
She taught me how to do a hundred things, and by-and-by I couldn't be too thankful she had taken me in. I was with her till she died. Then, six months ago I went to Miss Maryon, who knew about me long before from her that died. With her I've been ever since and so that's all." "Surely God has been kind to thee." "I'd have gone down down down, if it hadn't been for Mr. Claridge at the cross-roads."
But now she had come to the end of her strength. She would go away with Maryon . . . go out of it all . . . and somewhere, perhaps, together they would build up a new and happier life. Dimly at the back of her mind floated the memory of Peter's words: "But there's honour, dear, and duty . . ." She crushed down the remembrance resolutely.
Horror-struck, I gazed at the apparition; it advanced a little—the lips moved—I heard it distinctly say: “Reginald Westcar, The Mere belongs to you. Compel John Maryon to pay the debt of honor!” I fell back senseless. When next I returned to consciousness, it was when I was called in the morning; the shutters were opened, and I saw the red light of the dawning winter sun.
The only thing that stood in the way of his immediately carrying out his plan, was the fact that he had promised to go away the following morning on a few days' fishing expedition, together with Barry Seymour and the two Fentons. The realisation that Maryon Rooke would probably spend the best part of those few days in Nan's company set the blood pounding furiously through his veins.
"Is there anything extraordinary in a man's purchasing the portrait of his future wife?" "No. Oh, no. Only I don't fancy Maryon painted it with any idea of selling it." "And I didn't allow you to sit for it with any idea of his keeping it," retorted Roger grimly. Nan remained silent, feeling that further discussion of the matter while he was in his present humour would serve no purpose.
There'd never be anything to occupy my mind at Trenby except soup jellies. So it would just go running round and round in circles with the memory of all I've missed as the pivot of the circle. I'm sure Maryon will at least be able to stop me from thinking in circles. He's always flying off at a tangent and naturally I shall have to go flying after him.
And as long as Maryon Rooke occupies the foreground in her mind, no other man will occur to her as anything but a friend." "Then I wish somebody or something would sweep him out of her mind!" "Well, he's away now, at any rate," said Penelope soothingly. "So let's be thankful for small mercies."
It remained in the Wroth family until 1620, when it was acquired by Sir Baptist Hickes, afterwards Viscount Campden. Hickes' daughter and coheir married Lord Noel, ancestor of the Earls of Gainsborough, and it was held by the Gainsboroughs until 1707. In that year it was bought by Sir William Langhorne, who left it to his nephew. It then went to a Mrs. Margaret Maryon, later to Mrs.
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