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Updated: May 4, 2025
Foolish, simple Nina had achieved the nec plus ultra of her languorous dreams. 'What did you say your name was? asked Otto, the famous concert manager. 'Clara Toft. 'That won't do, he said roughly. 'My real proper name is Clarice, she added, blushing. 'But 'That's better, that's better. His large, dark face smiled carelessly. 'Clarice and stick an "e" on to Toft Clarice Tofte.
I do not think I shall let her have one, as she has a bad temper, but I will help her otherwise; she is greedy besides, as was the defunct philosopher William. In a year or two I shall have on the toft field a gallant show of extensive woodland, sweeping over the hill, and its boundaries carefully concealed. In the evening, after dinner, read Mrs.
History does not say that everybody went without his supper because King Charles's head was cut off. Mother, draw the ale. Dick, tell Sarah to bring in those hot potatoes. I'm hungry, and I've got to sit up all night." There proved to be no real need, for the squire's patient slept soundly, and there was nothing to disturb the silence at the Toft.
'Tis because I grudge the touching of a thing my mother sets store by, when she is not here herself to overlook it." Now this was just after old Maisie had quitted the room, to lie down and rest again before supper, having been led into much talk about Dave. Toft had seen her. His answer to Widow Thrale was: "Will not the old wife come back, if I bide a bit for her coming?"
Toft had greatly desired to repair the glass front of the little case or cabinet on the mantelshelf, but Elizabeth had not dared to sanction interference with an heirloom. That was quite right, said Widow Thrale. What would mother have said if any harm had been done to her model? Besides, it did not matter!
An old wicker arm-chair had been placed at the end of the garden, and he would set out for that arm-chair as upon a journey, and, having reached it, would sink into it with a huge sigh, and repose before bracing himself to the effort of return. And now it seemed marvellous that he had ever had the legs to get to Hillport and to Toft End.
I had forgotten that," said the squire sharply. "And that shows us that our enemies belong to a party somewhere at a distance, and that we should be wasting time in searching here. Hallo! who's this?" The exclamation was caused by the appearance of a dark figure coming towards them from the direction of the Toft. "Why, it's Thorpeley, the constable!" said Dick in a whisper to his companion.
Musing delectably, he drew aside the crimson curtain from the window and beheld the same prospect that Rachel had beheld on her walk towards Friendly Street the obscurity of the park, the chain of lamps down the slope of Moorthorne Road, and the distant fires of industry still farther beyond, towards Toft End.
"It isn't," he said; "I'm for Toft End, and I should have driven up Trafalgar Road anyhow." Mrs Sutton was one of James Peake's ideals. He worshipped this small frail woman of fifty-five, whose soft eyes were the mirror of as candid a soul as was ever prisoned in Staffordshire clay.
It was one evening twenty years later that a couple of stalwart well-dressed men, engineers engaged upon the cutting of another lode or drain many miles to the north, strolled down from the Toft farm to have a chat with the great grey-haired wheelwright, who carried on a large business now that a village had sprung up in the fen.
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