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Updated: June 4, 2025
He made a face ludicrously like the creature he mentioned. The old woman laughed outright, and Bertha smiled, though somewhat unwillingly. 'I don't like to hear Mr. Thistlewood made game of, Mr. Protheroe, she said a moment later. 'Don't you, Miss Fellowes? asked Mr. Protheroe. 'Then it shan't be done in your presence again.
Some time in the early part of September, I received a letter from London, signed A. Thistlewood, requesting me, when I came to town, to do him the favour of a call, as he had to communicate to me matters of the highest importance, connected with the welfare and happiness of the people, to promote whose interest he had always observed that I was most ready and active, &c. &c. As Mr.
'Will you be so good as to tell me where I'm wrong? 'There's one particular as you're wrong in, returned Mrs. Fellowes, knitting away with a determinedly uninteresting air, 'and, I misdoubt me, you can't alter it. 'What's that? asked Thistlewood, looking up at her suddenly. 'You're the wrong man, John. 'That remains to be seen, he answered, with the same dogged patience as before.
Indeed, Lady Thistlewood was vexed enough as it was, and ready to carry her incredulity to the most inconsistent lengths. 'It was all a trick for getting the poor boy back, that they might make an end of him altogether. Tell her they thought him dead. 'Tilley-valley! It was a mere attempt on her own good-nature, to get a little French impostor on her hands.
'I've always fancied, he said in a little while, 'as I had your goodwill in the matter. 'You've got my goodwill, in a way to be sure, said the old woman. 'You'd mek the gell a goodish husband if her could find a fancy for you but the fancy's everything don't you see, John? 'I'm not above taking advice, Mrs. Fellowes, said Thistlewood, digging at the gravel with his walking-stick.
For the last five years of her life her ladyship had been attended by Miss Helen Thistlewood, a very distant relative of the noble house of Bareacres, before mentioned, and daughter of Lieutenant R. Thistlewood, R.N., killed at the battle of Copenhagen.
If ever I get straight "No" I'll go, but I'll have it before I go, for that's a man's bounden duty to himself. 'Understand thyself as bein' warned away, said Thistlewood. 'Understand thy warning as being laughed at, answered Lane. 'You talk plain English? So will I. You've got the wrong pig by the ear. You're no better than a dog in the manger.
He had, when on a visit to his English kindred, entirely turned the head of the lovely Annora Walwyn, and finding that her father, one of the gravest of Tudor statesmen, would not hear of her breaking her engagement to the honest Dorset squire Marmaduke Thistlewood, he had carried her off by a stolen marriage and coup de main, which, as her beauty, rank, and inheritance were all considerable, had won him great reputation at the gay court of Henri II.
And some of 'em are as shallow as any puddle you'll find along the road, only they're so bemuddled you can't see to the bottom of 'em. You can plumb 'em with your little finger, though, if you don't mind soiling it. Now this innocent generalisation seemed gratuitously offensive to the absent Thistlewood, and chilled Bertha greatly.
'Oh, he answered, 'I'm perfectly well aware of that. It always has been no up till now, but that's no reason why it should be no to-day. And if it's no to-day that's no reason why it should be no again this day three months. Maids change their minds, my dear. 'It is a pity you should waste your time, Mr. Thistlewood, said Bertha, still looking down.
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