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Updated: June 26, 2025
"If you can frighten him, he'll press it on." "Do you think I might lie a bit?" "No, I shouldn't lie. It's awkward. Besides, you know you wouldn't do it, and you couldn't if you tried." "I'll stir him up," reiterated Rickmansworth. "Give me my prayer-book and parasol, and I'll go and find him."
God knows, and thou knowest it. I can say it was a match of Providence's making." The Declaration of Indulgence, the king's suspension of the penalties legally incurred by dissent, came conveniently at this time to give them a honeymoon of peace and tranquillity. They took up their residence at Rickmansworth, in Hertfordshire.
When I had told Sir Benjamin Titchborn that I came from Justice Fotherly, and requested him to give him a meeting to consider of my business, he readily, without any hesitation, told me he would go with me to Rickmansworth, from which his house was distant about a mile, and calling for his horses, mounted immediately, and to Rickmansworth we rode.
Their numbers were posted up in a frame and I saw there were to be five, so I called the first Farringdon Street, the second King's Cross, the third Gower Street, the fourth Portland Road, and the fifth Baker Street, those being stations on my way to Rickmansworth, where I frequently go for a walk in the country.
He thereupon communicated both the book and his thoughts upon it to a neighbouring justice, living in Rickmansworth, whose name was Thomas Fotherly, who concurring with him in judgment, they concluded that I should be taken up and prosecuted for it as a seditious book; for a libel they could not call it, my name being to it at length.
"Oh, stow all that! Eugene is not so remarkably strict, you know." And Lord Rickmansworth winked. "Well, we'll leave that out," said Ayre smiling. "Tell him it's treating him shamefully." "That's more the ticket. But what if she says 'No'?" "If she says 'No' right out, I'm done," said Ayre. "But will she?" "The devil only knows!" said Lord Rickmansworth. "Do you think you won't bungle it?"
The situation is altered when the idea dawns upon you that there is no reciprocity of graceful suffering; that, in fact, the lady may prefer somebody else. Eugene wanted to know where he stood. "Shall you be sorry to leave here?" he asked. "My feelings will be mixed. You see, Rickmansworth has actually consented to take me with him to his moor, and that will be great fun."
His fig tree, which some one else had planted, his laburnum a slip from one at Rickmansworth, the seat of the late Lord Mayor Burgess a catalpa seedling from Panshanger, which the late Lady Cowper did him the honour to present with her own hands: as Sanchia said afterwards to Melot, his garden was rather like a cemetery of dead friendships.... Then they sat to witness the revels.
I'll go to tea." And he got into a hansom and went, wondering with some amusement how Claudia had persuaded Morewood to paint her. It turned out, however, that the transaction was of a purely commercial character. Rickmansworth, having been very successful at the race-meeting above referred to, had been minded to give his sister a present, and she had chosen her own head on a canvas.
"I think I am glad," said Eugene; "it is much better in some ways. But he must have gone through another struggle, poor fellow!" "I doubt it," said Ayre. "Anyhow, it's rather a score for those chaps," remarked Rickmansworth. "He's a good fish to land." "Yes, it will make a bit of a sensation," assented Ayre. "We'll see what the Bishop says when he comes to turn Eugene off.
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