Fishpingle: A Romance of the Countryside

The little lady, as the Squire affectionately termed her, arrived at Pomfret Court a few days later. She brought with her many wonderful frocks, a habit (if the breeches and apr...

Fishpingle sat down to his desk and busied himself with some papers. He thought it likely that Prudence might return, but she didn’t. The butler lit a pipe, rose from his chair,...

Nether-Applewhite Vicarage, which adjoined the small church, lay snugly within the park, less than half a mile from Pomfret Court. Below it was the village through which flowed...

Leaving Fishpingle, the Squire walked down the passage which led past the pantry into the housekeeper’s room, where he knew he would find his wife. During the hour when he did a...

Lionel awoke early. He was lying in his own bed—at home. For the moment nothing else mattered. Soon he would get up, and scurry round his old haunts before breakfast. He felt an...

Fishpingle’s room at Pomfret Court challenged the interest of visitors to that ancient manor-house. It had been part of the original Pomfret House destroyed by fire in the first...

Margot recovered her temper and spirits as the motor sped homeward. The benedictions of the countryside fell like dew upon her, the soft air, the fragrance of pines, the leafy g...

Church parade at Pomfret Court was something of a function. The Squire assumed the silk hat and black coat of Mayfair, with shepherd’s plaid continuations and spats. Lady Pomfre...

Next day, after the shock of battle, Sir Geoffrey felt uncommonly sore and tired. Never had he made so wretched a breakfast! His wife, screened by a large silver urn, poured out...

The few weeks before Lionel’s arrival passed pleasantly and without incident. Prudence may have sat on Alfred’s knee, or wandered with him on Sunday afternoon’s but the Squire w...

Cricket matches of the first magnitude are played of a Saturday in Nether-Applewhite. At ten punctually, an aged and yellow bus, drawn by two stout horses, rolled through the lo...

Fishpingle had given Lionel sound advice. The Squire was generally at his best after dinner, provided, of course, that the cook had done her duty. Upon this occasion, in honour...

Many persons, profoundly ignorant of lives other than their own, believe that country gentlemen have easy billets. They read of big “shoots” with no understanding of the anxieti...

Lionel was clever enough to realise that he had behaved like a fool within five minutes of leaving Fishpingle’s room. He hastened to his mother, and, by the luck of things, foun...

Lady Pomfret met the Squire before he reached his desk and laid her hand upon his arm. That familiar touch was the one needful to reassure him. My lady had made Ben see himself...

“If you ask for my help, it’s yours. But the Squire may resent interference on the part of his butler. It might lead to a breach, to—to my dismissal from his service. That possi...

Sir Geoffrey stood still for a moment after his son had left the room. Then he sat down in the big armchair, staring vacantly at the hearth. His premonition had come true—the bo...

“Hold your tongue! We have had quite enough of this. I can’t prevent Alfred marrying you, you little baggage, but if he does he must find another place, and a cottage in a paris...

This policy was not to Lionel’s taste. Hamlin, too would abhor it, wax sour under it, suppress pride and wrath till they might break bonds and run amok. Under the suspense of wa...

Lionel awoke gaily to the consciousness that he was in love, and beloved, and going hunting in Arcadia. What young man could expect more of the gods? True, Joyce remained at hom...

A Romance of the Countryside needs no preface. But underlying the adventures and misadventures of the story is an obvious purpose, and the importunities of any purpose, if denie...