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Updated: June 21, 2025
Medchester is a manufacturing town, and I am given to understand is suffering severely. Has your man any original views on the present depression in trade?" Brooks glanced towards the speaker with a smile. "You have been reading the Medchester Post!" he remarked. The barrister nodded. "Yes. It hinted at some rather surprising revelation."
Kingston Brooks was twenty-five years old, strong, nervous, and with a strenuous desire to make his way so far as was humanly possible into the heart of life. He was a young solicitor recently established in Medchester, without friends save those he was now making, and absolutely without interest of any sort. He had a small capital, and already the beginnings of a practice.
Travellers are off to the Colonies with cases of samples every manufacturing centre is suddenly alive once more. The terrible struggle for existence is lightened. Next week," Brooks continued, with an almost boyish twinkle in his eyes, "I shall go down to Medchester and walk through the streets where it used to make our hearts ache to see the unemployed waiting about like dumb suffering cattle.
If you will permit me I will call upon you." "Won't you join us?" Lord Camperdown asked courteously. "We are only a small party the Portuguese Ambassador and his wife, the Duke of Medchester, and Stanley Phillipson." Mr. Sabin rose at once. "I shall be delighted," he said. Lord Camperdown hesitated for a moment. "I present Monsieur le Due de Souspennier, I presume?" he remarked, smiling. Mr.
You have set the ball rolling, and I can assure you that the next Member whom Medchester sends here, whether it be you or any one else, will come fully pledged to a certain measure of Protection." Mr. Henslow nodded. "Very well," he said, gloomily. "Where are you staying? "At the Metropole. Mr. Bullsom is there also." "I will call," Mr. Henslow promised, "at three o'clock, if that is convenient."
"The others had another plan; but they were no match for her." "But how did you come?" I asked. "You were not well enough to travel alone." "She left me at Medchester station," he answered. "Your carriage brought me over here, and your servants have been most kind. But but before I go to bed to-night, there are things which I must say to you.
If they are satisfactory that is to say, if I can keep myself on what they offer I shall go and live in London." He was surprised, and also in a sense disappointed. It was astonishing to find how unpleasant the thought of her leaving Medchester was to him. "I had no idea of this," he said, thoughtfully. "I did not know that you went in for anything of the sort."
Some ten thousand people crowded together in the market-place at Medchester, under what seemed to be one huge canopy of dripping umbrellas, heard for the first time for many years a bold and vigorous attack upon the principles which had come to be considered a part of the commercial ritual of the country. Henslow made the best of a great opportunity.
It is an easy walk from Medchester, if your clients can spare you for an afternoon. Good-night, Mr. Brooks." He held out his hand. He was sleepy apparently, for his voice had become almost a drawl, and he stifled a yawn as he passed along the little passage. Kingston Brooks returned to his little room, and threw himself back into his easy-chair. Truly this had been a wonderful day.
She suddenly avoided his eyes, but it was for a second only. Yet Brooks was himself conscious of the significance of that second. He set his teeth hard. "The days here," he said, slowly, "have been very pleasant. It has all been such a different life for me. A few months ago I knew no one except a few of the Medchester people, and was working hard to make a modest living.
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