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Updated: June 24, 2025
During these first visits to Oxford he was the guest of Sir Henry Acland; on April 29, 1871, Professor Ruskin, already honorary student of Christ Church, was elected to an honorary fellowship at Corpus, and enabled to occupy rooms, vacated by the Rev. Henry Furneaux, who gave up his fellowship on marrying Mr. Arthur Severn's twin-sister.
One listening would instinctively have felt that here was the secret of the great strength of Lynn Severn's life; the reason why neither college nor the world had been able to lure her one iota from her great and simple faith which she had brought with her from her Valley home and taken back again unsullied.
It had long been Severn's custom to converse with animals, probably because he lived so much alone; and now he said, "What's the matter, puss?" Her timid eyes sought his. "I understand," he said gently, "you shall have it at once."
And then she told him about Marvel. He felt vexed, saying she must replace her with all speed. Isabel said she knew of one, a young woman who had left Lady Mount Severn while she, Isabel, was at Castle Marling; her health was delicate, and Lady Mount Severn's place too hard for her. She might suit. "Write to her," said Mr. Carlyle.
He lived at Ernleye at a noble church Upon Severn's bank. Good there to him it seemed Fast by Radestone, where he books read. It came to him in mind, and in his first thoughts, That he would of England the noble deeds tell, What they were named and whence they came, The English land who first possessed After the flood which from the Lord came.
"If people say anything, I can tell them an accident happened to the cross." Mrs. Vane burst into a laugh of mocking ridicule. "'If people say anything!" she repeated, in a tone according with the laugh. "They are not likely to 'say anything, but they will deem Lord Mount Severn's daughter unfortunately short of jewellery." Isabel smiled and shook her head.
All day Sunday they had raised the devil from attic to cellar; Mrs. Farren was in tears, Howker desperate. Not one out of the fifteen servants considered necessary to embellish the Seagrave establishment could do anything with them after Kathleen Severn's sudden departure the week before. When the telegram announcing her mother's sudden illness summoned young Mrs.
"I vote we lay it all before Burney and Severn and Hot Pickles." "No," said another, "it isn't fair. He couldn't do it off Glyn Severn's bowling; not that we chaps bowl badly. Severn calls some of us toppers, and last week and several times since he put me up to giving the balls a twist.
"It dawns in Asia, tombstones show, And Shropshire names are read; And the Nile spills his overflow Beside the Severn's dead." Or Mr. Newbolt's: "Qui procul hinc the legend's writ, The frontier grave is far away; Qui ante diem periit, Sed miles, sed fro patriâ." The reason simply was that during the month I had spent in America the air had been filled with Kipling.
Her placid face and quiet way come before me as I write. My friendship with Patty had begun early. One autumn day when I was a little lad of eight or nine, my grandfather and I were driving back from Whitehall in the big coach, when we spied a little maid of six by the Severn's bank, with her apron full of chestnuts. She was trudging bravely through the dead leaves toward the town. Mr.
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