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Updated: September 25, 2025
He refused even to take a seat at her side, until he was told that she was his 'second wife. Then he allowed himself to be taken to Northborough, where he arrived in the evening of the 23d of July, utterly exhausted, and in a state bordering upon delirium. But already the next day he felt considerably better, and at once asked for writing materials.
"Northborough," said Endymion, "now held by Lord Montfort's cousin, who is to come in for his county. The seat was offered to me, and I was told I was to be returned without opposition." "Lady Montfort offered it to you?" asked Imogene. "She interested herself for me, and Lord Montfort approved the suggestion.
Until this August afternoon he was not aware that he had made an actual enemy in all the years that he had spent in Delverton, first as an overworked Northborough curate, and latterly as one of the busiest country vicars in the diocese. But towards five o'clock, as Mr.
George Alston, of Hurst Dormer." The General rambled on, but he forgot to explain to Hugh how it was that he had found him out at the Northborough Hotel, and presently Hugh forgot to enquire, which was what the General wanted. "You'll dine with me to-night, eh? I won't take no understand. I want to talk over old times!" "I thought of returning to Sussex to-night," said Hugh.
A last appeal for help and assistance issued forth from the cottage at Northborough at the beginning of August. Clare once more informed his friend Taylor that he felt terribly anxious to consult Dr. Darling, but could not undertake the journey for want of means. 'If I could but go to London, he wrote, 'I think I should get better. How would you advise me to come? I dare not come up by myself.
Full of this apprehension, and in terrible anxiety to shield himself against the coming danger, he resolved to consult his friend, Mr. John Taylor, from whom he had not heard for a long time. He wrote a first note at the beginning of July, 1834; but, not getting an immediate reply, despatched a second letter. It ran: 'Northborough, July 10, 1834.
There's a short cut across the park to the house from that road. It looks as if " "Ah!" interrupted Gilling. "It's clear how that happened, then. He took that short cut, when he came from Northborough that night! But if he's dead, who's engineering all this?
"I saw him at the 'Golden Apple' at Northborough at twelve o'clock Saturday night, sir," answered Hackett. "I took a bag of his to his rooms there. He was all right then. He knew I was going off first thing next morning to see an uncle of mine who's a farmer on the coast between here and Northborough, and he told me he shouldn't want me until one o'clock today.
The noble earl had fixed upon Northborough as the residence of the poet on account of the thoroughly sylvan scenery all around, the little hamlet lying hidden in a very sea of flowers, trees, and evergreens. The spot indeed was beautiful enough; yet to Clare it did not appear half so beautiful as the bare and bleak environs of his native village.
"You think he may have had an accident fallen over the cliffs or something?" suggested Copplestone. "I don't like to think anything," replied Stafford. "But I shall be a good deal relieved if we can get some definite news about him." The first half-hour at Northborough yielded nothing definite.
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