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Updated: May 11, 2025
Masses of ivy clung to the crumbling walls and all around spread a beautiful park, with soft, velvety turf interspersed with shrubbery and bright dashes of color from numerous well cared-for flower beds. Not less unique is St. Steven's church, the like of which is not to be found elsewhere in Britain.
She addressed herself to the parlormaid. "Tell Dr. Rowcliffe that tea is ready and that Miss Gwendolen is here." She really wanted Steven to come and deliver her from the situation she had created. But Rowcliffe delayed his coming. "Is it true that Steven's going to give up his practice?" Gwenda said presently. "Well no whatever he does he won't do that," said Mary.
A few months after Mr. Cranstoun's return from Southampton, my mother went up to London, in order to ask advice for a complaint in her breast, and took me along with her. Upon our arrival there, we went to her brother's, Mr. Henry Steven's, in Doctors' Commons, where we resided all the time we remained in town.
Pepeeta's familiarity with the flowers was greater than Steven's, but she knew little about birds, and propounded many questions to the young naturalist whose knowledge of the inhabitants of field, forest and river seemed to be communicated by the objects themselves, rather than by human teachers. "Hark!
He lives more by his own heat than the warmth of clothes, and the waiting-woman hath the greatest fancy to him when he is in his close trouses. Guards he wears none, which makes him live more upright than any cross-gartered gentleman-usher. 'Tis impossible to draw his picture to the life, because a man must take it as he's running, only this, horses are usually let blood on St. Steven's Day.
And Merlin found twenty-eight good knights of prowess and worship, but no more could he find. Then was the high feast made ready, and the king was wedded at Camelot unto Dame Guinever, in the Church of St. Steven's, with great solemnity. III. Sir Launcelot and the King
Perhaps the earliest allusion to him in any printed English work is that contained in Ranulph Higden's "Polychronicon," published at Westminster, by Wynkin de Worde, in 1495: "In this Steven's tyme, a knyght that hyght Owen wente in to the Purgatory of the second Patrick, abbot, and not byshoppe.
Steven's trouble had touched the first responsive chord. She looked down into his expectant face, feeling that she could not bear to disappoint him, yet unwilling to make a promise that involved personal exertion. Then she answered slowly, "I wish my husband were here. I cannot give you an answer without consulting him.
Steven's tone was perfectly respectful, and yet Kitty felt that he was laughing at her in his sleeve. "Mr. Luttrell, perhaps, can get you the key, miss." "Yes, I suppose so. Put the box down, please. No, it need not be uncorded until I know whether I shall stay the night." The man obeyed her somewhat imperiously-uttered commands with an air of careful submission. He then went down the dark stairs.
She sat down on the sofa as a sign that she was going to wait. "Till who comes?" Gwenda asked. She stared at the three with a fierce amazement. And they were abashed. "She doesn't know, Steve," said Mary. "I certainly don't," said Gwenda. She sat down beside Ally. "Has anybody been bullying you, Ally?" "They've all been bullying me except Steven. Steven's been an angel.
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