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Thomas Candish, or Cavendish, of Trimley, in the county of Suffolk, Esquire, was a gentleman of an honourable family and large estate, which lay in the neighbourhood of Ipswich, then a place of very considerable trade.
Thomas Candish of Trimley, in the county of Suffolk, Esquire, into the South Sea, and from thence round about the circumference of the whole earth, began in the year of our Lord 1586, and finished 1588." Narrative of the Voyage from England to the Pacific.
I was equally obstinate when Cristel asked leave to make up a bed for me in the counting-house at the mill. With the purpose that I had in view, if I accepted her proposal I might as well have been at Trimley Deen. Left alone, I placed the armchair and another chair for my feet, across the door of communication. It was properly locked. I have only to add that nothing happened during the night.
I wish you good morning." Between Lady Rachel's hard insolence, and Mrs. Roylake's sentimental hypocrisy, I was in such a state of irritation that I left Trimley Deen the next morning, to find forgetfulness, as I rashly supposed, in the gay world of London.
Assuming this conclusion to be the right one, I determined, then and there, that Lady Rachel should not pass the doors of Trimley Deen again. If her bosom-friend resented that wise act of severity by leaving the house, I should submit with resignation, and should remember the circumstance with pleasure.
"I wish to see what her ladyship's telegram brings forth," I said; "and mean to be here when 'the man' arrives." My venerable tenant was delighted. "Turn him inside out, sir, and get at his secrets. I'll help you." Returning to Trimley Deen, I ordered the pony-chaise to be got ready, and a small portmanteau to be packed speaking in the hall. The sound of my voice brought Mrs.
Roylake; only wretched. When may I expect you? Choose your own evening next week." Who could help pitying him? Compared with my sound sweet dreamless sleep, what dreadful nights were his! I accepted his invitation as a matter of course. When we had completed our arrangements, it was time for me to think of returning to Trimley Deen.
My favorite studies of the insect-world seemed to have lost their value in my estimation. In the silence and the darkness I lay down under a tree, and let my mind dwell on myself and on my new life to come. I am Gerard Roylake, son and only child of the late Gerard Roylake of Trimley Deen. At twenty-two years of age, my father's death had placed me in possession of his large landed property.
In spite of his boasting, the tea was the worst I ever tasted. I should have thrown it out of the window, if they had offered us such nasty stuff at Trimley Deen. When I set down my cup, he asked facetiously if I wished him to brew any more. My negative answer was a masterpiece of strong expression, in the language of signs.
In a burst of generosity, I entreated her to consider Trimley Deen as her house, and never to mention such a shocking subject as my authority again. After this, need I say that the most amiable of women took me out in her carriage, and introduced me to some of the best society in England?
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