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Updated: September 5, 2025
Yeovil said good-bye to her as she stood there, a wan, shrunken shadow, yet with a greater strength and reality in her flickering life than those parrot men and women that fluttered and chattered through London drawing- rooms and theatre foyers.
Close under the steep northern face of Hamdon is Stoke, with a quaint, and delightful inn known as the "Fleur de Lis," and a beautiful old church with a Norman tympanum, an elaborate chancel arch of the same date, and many other gracious and interesting details. If the direct road is taken from Montacute to Yeovil we pass through Preston Pucknell with its small and over-restored Decorated church.
"Yes, I've secured the hero of the hour, Ronnie Storre, oh yes, rather. He's going to join our yachting trip, third week of August. We're going as far afield as Fiume, in the Adriatic or is it the AEgean? Won't it be jolly. Oh no, we're not asking Mrs. Yeovil; it's quite a small yacht you know at least, it's a small party."
As a matter of fact the whole thing was decided over our heads; a new syndicate took over the concern, and a new committee was installed, with a good many foreigners on it. I know it's horrid having these uniforms flaunting all over the place, but what is one to do?" Yeovil said nothing, with the air of a man who could have said a great deal.
Apparently the experiment passed off well; Shalem has every reason to feel pleased with himself and well-disposed towards Gorla. By the way," added Yeovil, "talking of Gorla, I'm going down to Torywood one day next week." "To Torywood?" exclaimed Cicely. The tone of her exclamation gave the impression that the announcement was not very acceptable to her.
They were tired of their faith, but they were not virile enough to become real Pagans; their dancing fauns were good young men who tripped Morris dances and ate health foods and believed in a sort of Socialism which made for the greatest dulness of the greatest number. You will find plenty of them still if you go into what remains of social London." Yeovil gave a grunt of acquiescence.
"I was just defining you in my mind," said Yeovil, "as a man of God, with an infinite tenderness for little devils." The clergyman flushed. "Rather a fine epitaph to have on one's tombstone," he said, "especially if the tombstone were in some crowded city graveyard. I suppose I am a man of God, but I don't think I could be called a man of peace."
I'm getting him some carp, too, of quite respectable age, for a carp pond; I thought it would look so well for his lady-wife to be discovered by interviewers feeding the carp with her own fair hands, and I put the same idea into Pitherby's mind." "I had no idea that so many things were necessary to endorse a patent of nobility," said Yeovil.
The church was entirely rebuilt in 1839, and a chancel of better type added in 1897. Chillington, a small village 4 m. N.W. from Crewkerne. It has a Perp. church possessing an early font and some well-preserved early Communion plate. Chilthorne Domer, a village 3 m. N.W. of Yeovil, has a small church with some interesting features.
"I don't play cards," said Herlton, "at least not for serious stakes. My winnings or losings wouldn't come to a tenner in an average year. No, I live by commissions, by introducing likely buyers to would-be sellers." "Sellers of what?" asked Yeovil. "Anything, everything; horses, yachts, old masters, plate, shootings, poultry-farms, week-end cottages, motor cars, almost anything you can think of.
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