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Updated: June 25, 2025
"When we were at Shaston I jumped out of the window rather than that you should come near me. I have never reversed that treatment till now when I have come to beg your pardon for it, and ask you to let me in." "Perhaps you only think you ought to do this? I don't wish you to come against your impulses, as I have said." "But I beg to be admitted."
There was another peculiarity this a modern one which Shaston appeared to owe to its site. It was the resting-place and headquarters of the proprietors of wandering vans, shows, shooting-galleries, and other itinerant concerns, whose business lay largely at fairs and markets.
You may come part of the way." "But stop you can't go to-night! That train won't take you to Shaston. You must stay and go back to-morrow. Mrs. Edlin has plenty of room, if you don't like to stay here?" "Very well," she said dubiously. "I didn't tell him I would come for certain." Jude went to the widow's house adjoining, to let her know; and returning in a few minutes sat down again.
On an evening in the latter part of May a middle-aged man was walking homeward from Shaston to the village of Marlott, in the adjoining Vale of Blakemore, or Blackmoor. The pair of legs that carried him were rickety, and there was a bias in his gait which inclined him somewhat to the left of a straight line.
He was Richard Phillotson, who had recently removed from the mixed village school at Lumsdon near Christminster, to undertake a large boys' school in his native town of Shaston, which stood on a hill sixty miles to the south-west as the crow flies.
"By the Lord Harry! Matriarchy! ... Does SHE say all this too?" "Oh no. She little thinks I have out-Sued Sue in this all in the last twelve hours!" "It will upset all received opinion hereabout. Good God what will Shaston say!" "I don't say that it won't. I don't know I don't know! ... As I say, I am only a feeler, not a reasoner."
Part Fourth "Whoso prefers either Matrimony or other Ordinance before the Good of Man and the plain Exigence of Charity, let him profess Papist, or Protestant, or what he will, he is no better than a Pharisee." Shaston, the ancient British Palladour, From whose foundation first such strange reports arise,
Your father learnt it on his way hwome from Shaston, and he has been telling me the whole pedigree of the matter." "Where is father now?" asked Tess suddenly. Her mother gave irrelevant information by way of answer: "He called to see the doctor to-day in Shaston. It is not consumption at all, it seems. It is fat round his heart, 'a says. There, it is like this."
The spot was the burial-place of a king and a queen, of abbots and abbesses, saints and bishops, knights and squires. The bones of King Edward "the Martyr," carefully removed hither for holy preservation, brought Shaston a renown which made it the resort of pilgrims from every part of Europe, and enabled it to maintain a reputation extending far beyond English shores.
From the gates and stiles of Marlott she had looked down its length in the wondering days of infancy, and what had been mystery to her then was not much less than mystery to her now. She had seen daily from her chamber-window towers, villages, faint white mansions; above all, the town of Shaston standing majestically on its height; its windows shining like lamps in the evening sun.
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