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Updated: May 6, 2025
Politics, as a mere fight over details, or as a battle between rival politicians, appealed to me no more than it had done during my experience of electioneering in Fifeshire; but presently by family events I was drawn once more into the fray. My cousin, Richard Mallock of Cockington, had been asked, and had consented, to stand as Conservative candidate for the Torquay division of Devonshire.
Meanwhile in the Duchess's drawing room a little knot of people was gathered Lady Henry, Sir Wilfrid Bury, and Dr. Meredith. Their demeanor illustrated both the subduing and the exciting influence of great events. Lady Henry was more talkative than usual. Sir Wilfrid more silent. Lady Henry seemed to have profited by her stay at Torquay.
It was a serious consideration to me, who at that time was travelling through the West with a very small and very wayworn portmanteau, with Glasgow, Torquay, Boston, Rock Island, and I know not what besides upon it. The bush, however, for the time being, was very enjoyable, in spite of numerous bruises and scratches.
I will write to you when we come back from Torquay; do not come to see me before, it would not be safe for you. Ever, my dear friend, because of you, the happiest and most grateful mother on God's earth, Charlotte Harman's face was very white when, after reading this letter, she raised her eyes to Hinton's. What had been written with all joy and thankfulness was received with pain.
I looked up the map once more, following the lines with my fingers, till I found the very place where the name was printed. A village in Devonshire, not far from Torquay. Yes! That's it; Berry Pomeroy. The murderer was there on the day of that athletic meeting! My heart came up into my mouth with mingled horror and triumph. I felt like a bloodhound who gets on the trail of his man.
I am informed that a dreadful suspicion has been raised, and that some very serious constructions are placed upon his lordship's conduct. My persuasion of the Count's innocence remains, however, quite unshaken. If he assisted Sir Percival in sending me to Torquay, he assisted under a delusion, for which, as a foreigner and a stranger, he was not to blame. If he was concerned in bringing Mrs.
On getting round the Bill of Portland we saw ahead the sandy cliff of Bridport, two hundred feet in height, with dark and rugged eminences beyond, the Golden Cap of brighter hue rising above them. We now stood across West Bay, towards Torquay. Finding the tide against us, we kept close enough in shore to be able to distinguish places with our glasses.
I seriously believe that she has a plan for killing her husband. You remember my mentioning in a letter his horse-accident? He has never recovered from that, and as likely as not never will. His wife brought him away from Madeira just when he ought to have stopped there to get well. He settled himself at Torquay, whilst that woman ran about to pay visits.
Ostentation of any sort was something which he shrank from instinctively, even in the simplest affairs of daily life; and his future wife's proposal to avoid all the usual ceremony and publicity of a wedding was therefore more than agreeable to him it was a positive relief. The courtship was kept secret at Torquay, and the marriage was celebrated privately at Penliddy.
Edmund and Gerald had promised to spend a few days at Oakworthy, before the one returned to Portsmouth and the other to Eton; but their plans were disconcerted by an event which, as Clara said, placed Marian in mourning in good earnest, namely, the death of her great aunt, old Mrs. Jessie Arundel, who had always lived at Torquay.
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