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Yonge, Charlotte Mary, 1823-1901

"Chantry House"

The country we saw was of utterly unimagined
beauty to the untravelled eyes of most of us. I remember Ellen
standing on Hartland Point, with her face to the infinite expanse of
the Atlantic, and waving back Griff with 'Oh, don't speak to me.'
Yet the sea was a delight above all to my mother and Clarence. To
them it was a beloved friend; and magnificent as was Lynmouth,
wonderful as was Clovelly, and glorious as was Hartland, I believe
they would equally have welcomed the waves if they had been on the
flattest of muddy shores! The ripple, plash, and roar were as
familiar voices, the salt smell as native air; and my mother never
had thawed so entirely towards Clarence as when she found him the
only person who could thoroughly participate her feeling.
At Minehead they stayed out, walking up and down together in the
summer twilight till long after every one else was tired out, and
had gone in; and when at last they appeared she was leaning on
Clarence's arm, an unprecedented spectacle!
At Appledore, the only place on that rugged coast where boating
tempted them, there was what they called a pretty little breeze, but
quite enough to make all the rest of us decline venturing out into
Bideford bay. They, however, found a boatman and made a trip, which
was evidently such enjoyment to them, that my father, who had been a
little restless and uneasy all the time, declared on their return
that he felt quite jealous of Neptune, and had never known what a
cruelty he was committing in asking a sea-nymph to marry a London
lawyer.


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