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Updated: August 9, 2024
"I know something myself of the north coast, especially the neighborhood of Clovelly." Not the faintest change passed over the priest's face; his fatherly smile had never been in a better state of preservation. "Isn't it a charming place?" he said with enthusiasm. "Clovelly is the most remarkable and most beautiful village in England.
"Not now," Wetherell answered nervously, glancing at the group. He went into the store, addressed an envelope to "Mr. Bijah Bixby of Clovelly," and gave it to Cynthia. "When he comes back for his wagon, hand it to him," he said, feeling that he would rather, at that moment, face the devil himself than Mr. Bixby. Half an hour later, Cynthia gave Mr.
When a sixpence was thrown down to her, she smiled, courtesied primly, and then disappeared into the nearest cottage, one of plaster and thatch, overgrown with roses. However, the crowning joy of the day, even in the opinion of John, who was difficult to please, was the first glimpse of quaint little Clovelly itself.
"Leastwise that's Jethro's philosophy. When you come to know him, you'll notice how much those fellers walk like him. Never seed a man who had so many imitators. Some of,'em's took to talkie' like him, even to stutterin'. Bijah Bixby, over to Clovelly, comes pretty nigh it, too." Moses loaded his sugar and beans into his wagon, and drove off.
Eyrecourt could proceed with her recollections of "the evening at the Duke's." "Your charming daughter and I have been talking about Clovelly," he continued. "I have just been spending a little holiday in that delightful place. It was a surprise to me, Mrs. Eyrecourt, to see so many really beautiful country seats in the neighborhood.
Hamlyn, was the chatelaine of the famous Clovelly, in Devonshire, and was Con's sister. She had the spirit of eternal youth and was full of breathless admiration. I hardly ever met any one who derived so much pleasure and surprise out of ordinary life. She was as uncritical and tolerant of those she loved as she was narrow and vehement over those who had unaccountably offended her.
The voice of the great war had been heard everywhere. From the remote hamlet of Clovelly the young men of the lifeboat crew had left for the front, and if the call of the sea came now it would have to be answered by sailors over sixty. In Barnstaple two large boardings on the face of a public building recorded in golden letters the names of the townsmen who had joined the colours.
I had had one from her that morning, and this was a pleasure which never came twice in one day, for Prince's College, Toronto, was a long week's journey from London, S.W. Considering, however, that I did receive letters from her once a week, it may be concluded that Clovelly did not; and that, if he had, it would have been by a serious infringement of my rights.
By six o'clock on Friday morning he was descending a brook valley on the Clovelly side of the mountain, and by seven was driving between the forest and river meadows of the Rajah's domain, and had come in sight of the big white house with its somewhat pretentious bay-windows and Gothic doorway; it might be dubbed the palace of these parts.
"To my mind, the most interesting persons on the ship," said Clovelly at last, "are the bookmaker, Miss Treherne, and the lady with whom you have just been talking an exceptional type." "An unusual woman, I fancy," was my reply. "But which is Miss Treherne? I am afraid I am not quite sure."
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