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Updated: May 7, 2025
They say he was driven out of house and home by his wife and she's living still down in the new town there. I don't know the rights of the story myself all I know is I got the place. Mr. Wansborough got it for me the son of my old master that I was tell you of. He's a free, pleasant gentleman as ever lived rides to the hounds, keeps his pointers and all that.
My object now was to examine the duplicate register of Old Welmingham Church. Mr. Wansborough was in his office when I inquired for him. He was a jovial, red-faced, easy-looking man more like a country squire than a lawyer and he seemed to be both surprised and amused by my application. He had heard of his father's copy of the register, but had not even seen it himself.
Wansborough lives there too." "You said just now he was vestry-clerk, like his father before him. I am not quite sure that I know what a vestry-clerk is." "Don't you indeed, sir? and you come from London too! Every parish church, you know, has a vestry-clerk and a parish-clerk.
Wansborough had already noticed, laid the necessary fee on his table, arranged that I should write to him in a day or two, and left the office, with my head in a whirl and my blood throbbing through my veins at fever heat. It was just getting dark. The idea occurred to me that I might be followed again and attacked on the high-road.
He's vestry-clerk here now as his father was before him." "Did you not tell me your former master lived at Knowlesbury?" I asked, calling to mind the long story about the precise gentleman of the old school with which my talkative friend had wearied me before he opened the register-book. "Yes, to be sure, sir," replied the clerk. "Old Mr. Wansborough lived at Knowlesbury, and young Mr.
The vestry-clerk is a sort of an appointment that the lawyers get, and if there's any business to be done for the vestry, why there they are to do it. It's just the same in London. Every parish church there has got its vestry-clerk and you may take my word for it he's sure to be a lawyer." "Then young Mr. Wansborough is a lawyer, I suppose?" "Of course he is, sir!
Wednesbury, Wansborough, Wanstead, Wandsworth: Odin grew into England too, these are still leaves from that root! He was the Chief God to all the Teutonic Peoples; their Pattern Norseman; in such way did they admire their Pattern Norseman; that was the fortune he had in the world.
Certain portions of the conversation of the talkative old clerk, which had wearied me at the time, now recurred to my memory with a new significance, and a suspicion crossed my mind darkly which had not occurred to me while I was in the vestry. On my way to Knowlesbury, I had only proposed to apply to Mr. Wansborough for information on the subject of Sir Percival's mother.
It was impossible at this stage of the investigation to be too cautious, and it was just as well not to let Mr. Wansborough know prematurely that I had already examined the original register. I described myself, therefore, as pursuing a family inquiry, to the object of which every possible saving of time was of great importance.
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